Dimmadreki
by Cke1st
Summary: Hiccup thinks his life is hard... but then a witch's spell forces him to flee the village or die. Now he doesn't even know what he can eat. His only possible helper refuses to believe his story, and her plans for him are unspeakable. He realizes he still has a lot to learn about a hard life. Dragon!Hiccup xOC. Rated T for some adult themes; the language is all K.
1. Chapter 1

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 1

_A/N_

_Hiccup thinks his life is hard... but then a witch's spell forces him to flee the village or die. Now he doesn't even know what he can eat. His only possible helper refuses to believe his story, and her plans for him are unspeakable. He realizes he still has a lot to learn about a hard life. Dragon!Hiccup xOC. Rated T for adult themes; the language is all K._

_This story was written in response to a challenge from Aegis Dragon. This is NOT a "Lightning and Death Itself" story, although it borrows a few concepts from the LightningVerse, simply because I can't think of a better way to handle those concepts than the way I already imagined them for that story. It has a very different tone from that story as well. I hope you like it._

**o**

Alvin the Treacherous was not in the habit of asking other people for favors. When he wanted something, he took it; it kept his life simple. But every rule has an exception, and there was one exception to Alvin's rule. "Will you do something for me, Mother?"

Excellinor thought about that as she stirred the broth that was heating in a black kettle over the fire. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and her son's requests were requiring more and more exertion from her. Somehow she'd thought that, once she'd arranged for him to become chief of the Outcasts, he'd be able to take care of his own problems from that day forward. Goodness knows, she'd tried to be a good mother to him! Goodness knows, she'd taught him right from wrong, and why "wrong" was usually the better choice. Would he _ever_ be able to stand on his own two feet? What problem had he encountered now, that he couldn't solve without her special skills? "What is it that you want?"

"I want you to cause some confusion in Berk so I can take over. This is something only you can do."

"As usual," she sighed, and stirred the broth some more. "Did you remember my birthday? Did you remember me on Mother's Day? Was I the first person you greeted on Snoggletog? Will you even visit with me for an evening and enjoy my cooking? No, no, no, and no! But the moment you run into any kind of trouble, or need some special help, it's 'Oh, Mother, you're the best!' Did I raise you to be such an ungrateful, spiteful son?"

He hung his head. "Fine. I'll pick you some flowers the next time I'm on the mainland."

For just a moment, her heart melted, but the moment couldn't last. "Confusion in Berk? That's kind of a broad request."

"I want you to make the chief's son disappear," Alvin clarified. "Stoick the Vast has only one child. If that boy vanishes and no one can find him, the chief will try everything to get him back. That kind of distraction will weaken Berk, and will be the perfect time for us to launch our big raid."

"Not from what I've heard," she countered. "According to my sources of information, the son of Stoick is a scrawny, bumbling incompetent who thinks too much and breaks everything he touches. 'Hiccup the Useless,' they call him. If I make him disappear, his replacement would be the chief's nephew, Snotlout. That one is strong, brave, good with his weapons, and a total knucklehead. He's the ultimate Viking. Removing Hiccup would make Berk stronger, not weaker."

"That might be true," Alvin nodded, "but he's still the chief's only son, and the chief is bound to panic if the boy vanishes. I'd really like you to do this for me, Mother." He took a deep breath and reluctantly added, "Please."

She sighed. He might tower over her, but she could still remember him as a little boy, running around on the beach barefoot, pulping snails and crabs with his hammer. He would always be her son. "Fine, I'll do it," she sighed. "Do you want the direct approach, or can I do it artistically this time?"

"Do it any way you like, as long as he's gone without a trace," Alvin scowled.

"Good," she smiled. Her smile would frighten anyone but Alvin. "Bring me something that belongs to him, something he's worn or handled recently. I'll also need a bit of coal from the forge, and a live moth or butterfly in a jar. As soon as I have those things, arrange for a ship and crew to take me to Berk at night. It may take a few nights before I get the right circumstances. The son of Stoick is going to exit the scene in epic fashion!" She cackled in anticipation, then sobered. "Now that _that's_ settled, can you stay and have supper with me?"

"I'm afraid not, Mother. The boys are having an ale-drinking contest in the Mead Hall tonight, and my reputation is on the line. Maybe some other night." The huge Outcast stood, pulled the leather curtain away from her doorway, and left.

Excellinor sat in silence, stirring her broth. _My son, the ingrate,_ she thought bitterly. _He treats me like I'm some kind of witch. Well, I __am__ a witch, but he still doesn't treat me right. At least I'll be able to have a little __fun__ with __this__ assignment_.

**o**

For three nights, her ship waited off the coast of Berk while she watched for the right circumstances to arise. If she did it in the daytime, she'd be caught for sure, and there was a chance that the Vikings of Berk would figure out what she'd done, which would make the whole exercise worthless. It had to be done at night, so she and her actions wouldn't be seen. That meant she needed the chief's son to be out of his house at night, and there was only one situation that could make that happen. Casting this spell could take a year off her life; she wasn't going to do a halfway job of it. She waited. Patience was one of her specialties.

At last, on the fourth night, her patience was rewarded. A bright blast of flame over the town marked the beginning of a dragon raid. Excellinor turned to Savage, the ship's captain. "Now is my chance. Launch the boat and row me to shore! This might take a while, so wait for me."

He gave the orders, then turned back to her. "If you make me wait too long, I may have to leave without you."

"Oh, yes, by all means, do that!" she nodded with a terrifying grin. "Explain to Alvin why you abandoned his mother on Berk. I'll wait for your replacement to come and get me, and I promise I'll drop a flower on your grave." She climbed over the side of the ship into the launch, and two stout Outcasts pulled the oars to bring her to shore.

Her chosen landing site was a narrow rocky beach to the north of Berk village. It meant she'd have to walk some distance to get close to the town, but if she landed any closer, she'd have to climb some steep cliffs, and she doubted she could still do that at her age. She turned to the oarsmen. "Same orders. Wait for me!" She doused her black clothing liberally with her home-made dragon repellent, made sure she had the material components for the spell she planned to cast, and set out through the woods toward Berk.

It was easy to see what was going on in town; the night-vision torches were lit, and buildings were burning everywhere. All she had to do was find the chief's son, say a few words, make a few gestures, and leave. The first part would be the hard part. She had a good description of her target, and there couldn't be many Vikings who looked like a talking fishbone. It was just a question of where in town he'd go when the dragons attacked, and whether she'd be in the right place at the right time. She'd need luck for that, and half-a-dozen luck charms dangled from chains around her thin neck. She found a shadowed place behind a small storage shed, watched the Vikings running like ants as the dragons disturbed their anthill, and waited.

In about twenty minutes, she saw that her luck charms had worked. A boy who looked like a talking fishbone was running in her general direction, pushing some kind of contraption that looked like a covered wheelbarrow. People were yelling at him to get back inside, but he ignored them. He ran to the edge of the cliffs, unfolded his machine into something that might have been a weapon, and began searching the darkness for something.

He was motionless. Perfect. She began the spell.

**o**

"Come on, give me something to shoot at! Give me something to shoot at!" Hiccup urged the night sky. He knew the sky wasn't listening, but then, nobody else listened to him, either. That was about to change. This was his big chance! There was definitely a Night Fury in the area, his weapon was armed and ready (except for a few minor calibration issues), and no one else was around to mess things up. Tonight was the night he'd make a name for himself! He'd bring down a Night Fury for the first time ever, his father would be proud of him, Astrid would notice him, and everything would be better. He squinted through the sights of his bola-thrower, waited to hear the scream of a diving Night Fury, and braced himself.

The only scream he heard was his own.

He felt a sudden painful jolt all over him, and he lost consciousness for a moment. When he awoke, something was wrong. It felt like he was crawling with ants that were stretching and compressing his skin all over. He glanced at his hands... and that was when he screamed. His fingers were retracting into his hands, which were turning black, while his fingernails were stretching and hardening into huge sharp claws. He felt his body growing and thickening; his clothing tore and fell away as he outgrew it in a matter of seconds. Hideous black bumps rose all over his skin, and were joined by more and more of them until all of him was covered with the black scales. Something felt like it was growing out of his shoulders, and something else was coming out from someplace lower. He screamed again, but it was not his voice. It was an inhuman bellow.

He wasn't sure how long it took before all the horrible changes stopped; it was probably half a minute or less. He closed his eyes and lay motionless, terrified of what might happen to him next. But, whatever this awful process was, it had apparently ended. He tried to see and feel what had happened to him.

Claws... wings... a tail... scales... sharp pointy teeth... no. No! _**NO-O-O!**_ Somehow, someone or something had turned him into a dragon!

A detached portion of his brain noticed that he wasn't a type of dragon that he'd ever seen or heard of. The rest of him was consumed in one overpowering thought: _what do I do now?_ This was not the way his night of crowning glory was supposed to work!

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face it; his neck didn't swivel the way it should. A Monstrous Nightmare climbed over the edge of the cliffs and stomped his bola-thrower into matchsticks. He desperately tried to get away from it, but he'd never run on four legs before; he tripped over nothing and fell flat, banging his jaw painfully on the ground. The huge red dragon glanced at him curiously for a moment, then turned away. It got its hind leg tangled in the shreds of his clothing; irritated, it kicked the rags off, and they flew over the edge of the cliff. It didn't flame! It didn't bite! It didn't attack at all! Why had it ignored him?

_Dragons don't attack dragons,_ the detached part of his brain said to him. Then it added, _But Vikings do_.

Vikings. Everyone in his village would think he was a dragon if they saw him. They would kill him without a moment's thought; his own father would be first in line. He couldn't speak, so he couldn't try to convince them he was really Hiccup, or even beg for his life. Had anyone noticed him yet? He looked around in panic, but saw no signs that he was about to be murdered by his friends and relatives. The Vikings were too busy fighting the more brightly-colored dragons.

_You need to get out of here before they see you,_ said the detached part of his brain. That was easier said than done. He didn't even bother trying to fly; if just walking was that difficult, then leaping into the air would be nothing but an invitation for gravity to do its thing at his expense. He got back on his feet and began walking toward the forest, slowly and awkwardly at first, but gaining confidence with each step. He tried running, and quickly tripped over his own feet; he'd stick to walking for now. The noises of the raid grew fainter as he made his way into the woods.

It was strange, how well he could see in the dark. Was the glare of the burning buildings reflecting off the clouds to give more light? No; he couldn't see the fires at all from where he stood. It must be because his eyes had changed along with the rest of him. _Dragons attack at night, so you'd expect them to see well at night_. The detached part of his brain was taking control of his thinking. _Especially you, whatever kind of dragon you are_.

That stopped him in his tracks. What kind of dragon _was_ he?

Well, he was black, he had four legs, two wings, and a tail with two broad tail fins. That was something he'd never heard of; he certainly hadn't seen anything like it.

_Hadn't seen_. He heard the echo of his own voice in his head. "But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one's ever seen. They call it the..."

_No, no, please, no, oh gods, not that, NO!_

There couldn't be any doubt. He was a Night Fury.

_Dat da-dah, I'm dead_. The detached part of his brain had joined forces with the sarcastic part. Wonderful. But it was right. His head would be the ultimate prize on the wall in the Mead Hall. If the Vikings found him, they might even fight over the privilege of slaying him. His father would kill him on sight. So would Astrid. So would Gobber. And they would never know what they'd done.

How had this happened? He'd been minding his own business, just trying to kill a dragon, and then, BAM! Instead of shooting down a Night Fury, he'd _become_ one! _That must be a new record for epic failures, even for me,_ he decided. _How did I do it?_

He found no answers as he made his way deeper into the woods. He tried every line of thought he could think of; none of this made any sense. His confused thoughts served one useful purpose – they kept him from dwelling on his present situation. But he could keep himself distracted only for so long. He reached the place where he couldn't think of anything else, and the realization of what had happened came crashing down on his mind, flattening the detached portion of his brain along with all the rest of it. He was a dragon. He was now his own tribe's worst enemy. He could never go home or see his father again. He had suddenly become a wanted man with a death sentence, except he hadn't done anything wrong, and he wasn't even a man anymore. He wasn't much of a dragon, either – he had no idea how to fly, breathe fire, or do anything else that might help him survive. He was nothing but a helpless target.

And he'd thought his life had been bad yesterday?

He flopped down between two big trees and wept uncontrollably.

**o**

Excellinor's work was done; her triumph was complete. But she never got to see it or enjoy it. As she'd feared, casting this powerful spell had cost her a year of her life. She had miscalculated her anti-aging potions; she had no way of knowing she was already in her last year. When the Vikings of Berk were cleaning up after the raid the next day, one of them found a strange pile of black robes filled with several pounds of ashy dust and a handful of luck charms. He threw it in the "to be buried" pile with all the other debris. The men who crewed the Outcast ship and the rowing launch waited until after sunrise before they reluctantly returned to Outcast Island without their chief's mother.

They expected Alvin to fly into a homicidal rage. Instead, he shrugged and said, "Oh, well. She lived a long, full life. I hope she finished the job she started." Then he returned to his drinking and gambling, quietly singing something about "Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead."

Hiccup never knew it, but the only person who could have undone his transformation was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 2

_A/N  
A lot of reviews for chapter 1 have centered on one question that seems to be of vital importance to you: "Will Toothless be in the story?" He will play a small but important supporting role, much later in the story, and under a different name, but yes, he will be here. Okay, that's settled. Now, on with the story!_

**o**

When the sun rose on Berk the next day, there was no sign of the chief's trouble-prone son. Stoick had no time to worry about him; he had to get the town back on its feet, figure out how much food was left, decide how to replace the lost food before winter came, find dwellings for the families who had lost their homes, visit the wounded, honor the dragon-slayers, and do all of the hundred other things a Viking chief has to do after the hated lizards have raided his village. Hiccup would show up sooner or later; he wasn't dead, or his body would have been found by now. Anything that didn't pertain to the town's survival was a low-priority task, and Hiccup had never done anything that might have aided the town's survival. He might have aided a few _dragons'_ survival, but that was a separate issue. First things first.

Out in the woods, a long, black-on-black shape was stirring. Hiccup had slept poorly; everything about himself felt wrong, and lying on the ground instead of in a bed didn't help. No matter which way he rolled, his wings kept getting in the way, and as soon as he fell asleep, his tail twitched and hit something and woke him up again. His first act was to look at his hands and hope it was all a bad dream. No such luck.

He realized he was hungry. Where could he find food? With a nasty shock, he realized he didn't even know what "food" was anymore. What did dragons eat? He knew the dragons usually stole sheep and fish, so that might be a good starting point. Did Night Furies eat what other dragons ate? His teeth felt short and stubby, not long and wickedly pointed like the teeth of other dragons. They were still sharp, though, as he learned when he passed his tongue across them. The moment he pulled his tongue back in pain, he felt his teeth snap down into his gums! He tried to work the various muscles in his lower jaw, and eventually succeeded in putting his teeth back where they belonged. This was all very entertaining, but it wasn't filling his belly.

He had nowhere to go. He had no one to see. He had nothing to do. His only priority was to stay as far away from his own village as he could. No one would wander into the woods and find him by accident; everyone in town would be too busy rebuilding after the dragon raid. He had a few days, at least, in which he'd be safe. No, that wasn't true; the tree-fellers would soon be looking for timber to rebuild the burned houses and shops. At least they'd sing and talk and make noise as they entered the woods, so they wouldn't take him by surprise. He could avoid them.

But Astrid... Astrid liked to practice with her axe in the woods. Astrid wouldn't make a sound as she crept through the forest. If she saw him, she wouldn't hesitate to practice on a live target. Astrid could kill him before he knew he was under attack. He didn't dare relax. He went deeper into the forest, looking for places where there were no footpaths.

_Oh, the gods hate me!_ he thought. _Some people turn bald, or turn gray. No, not me! I managed to turn into a __dragon__!_ He pushed a tree branch aside with his foreleg, and snarled in pain when it snapped back and hit him in the face. His new voice also took some getting used to. He tried not to talk to himself; hearing those grunts and growls coming out of his mouth was as unsettling as the sight of his black, scaly, clawed paws.

Just ahead of him was something that looked like a low cliff. He peered over the edge cautiously. About ten feet below him was more forested terrain, much like where he'd already been, but at a lower level. Then the edge of the cliff gave way beneath him – he wasn't used to weighing so much – and he found himself down on that lower level. He wasn't hurt, but he probably couldn't go back the way he came. If he kept going down without knowing how to get back up, he'd soon find himself in a place where he couldn't get out.

Maybe it was time to see if those wings on his back were good for something better than snagging on low-hanging tree branches.

It took him some trial and error just to figure out which muscles he should use to make his wings move; it was a lot more complicated than he'd thought it would be. Once he finally figured that out, making them flap wasn't hard. But he wasn't rising off the ground, either. He could feel himself floating slightly with each down-flap, and then each up-flap pressed him harder onto the ground. He tried angling his wings slightly on the up-flaps, and the pressing-down effect faded. But he was nowhere close to flying. The accursed dragons made it look so easy! _Choose your words carefully, Hiccup,_ he thought. _You __are__ an accursed dragon. Maybe more accursed than most._

He wandered aimlessly. He found a stream and took a drink, and began to learn how his new mouth and throat worked. He saw a small fish of some kind in a pool and tried to catch it, but he was far too slow and clumsy. He was getting hungrier, and there was nothing in sight that looked remotely appetizing.

As the sun was going down and he approached the end of his first day as a Night Fury, he decided that the only way he could eat would be to go where the food was – the Mead Hall. He knew where the leftover food got dumped; unappetizing as the thought was, it was better than starving to death. Of course, thanks to the dragons, there _was_ no leftover food most of the time. He might be making a dangerous voyage into hostile territory for nothing. But he was running out of options.

The first challenge was getting back up that collapsed cliff. The ground was loose soil and gravel, and it crumbled under his weight. By taking a running start and flapping his wings, he was able to scramble up until he was back on solid ground. He wasn't completely sure where he was, but his superb night vision helped him find a footpath, and he knew that any footpath on this island had to lead back to the village eventually. He walked as quietly as he could, and waited on the outskirts of town until it was fully dark.

The next challenge was getting past the night watchman. His biggest fear was that his stomach would rumble and give him away, but that problem, at least, didn't plague him tonight. He knew the watchman's route by heart; he'd long since mastered the art of sneaking to the forge in the middle of the night without being noticed. He waited until the man walked past, less than a hundred feet away, his torch flickering in the night breeze. He counted to twenty, then followed him, confident that they wouldn't pass anywhere near each other until he stepped aside and crept to the back of the Mead Hall.

They had served chicken tonight. There wasn't much left but the bones, but after nosing around for a minute or two, he found a half-chicken that had barely been touched. That was when he realized he had no way of picking the meat off the bone any more. Reluctantly, he swallowed it whole. Less than a minute later, it came up again.

_I guess I can cross chicken off my list,_ he thought. _That doesn't leave much_. He sadly made his way back to the relative safety of the forest, wondering how long he could live without food. He knew he'd never get near the sheep; they were supervised during the day and guarded at night. He didn't think he could make himself kill a live sheep anyway. That left fish. There wouldn't be any fish drying on the racks, not after last night's dragon raid. He'd already seen that he was too slow to catch them with his mouth, and he doubted his paws would work any better. No one had ever seen a dragon eat anything, so the entire process was a mystery to him. Either he'd have to figure it out on his own, or he'd starve to death.

He slept poorly again. The noises of nocturnal creatures and insects kept him awake, the ground was hard, and his wings kept getting in the way. He finally gave up on sleeping on his side and tried to lie right-side-up. That helped with the wings. His ear-flaps flicked involuntarily whenever something buzzed or whined too closed to his head. He was glad for those reflexes, and wished he had some other reflexes that would point him to the nearest food and help him catch it.

He wondered what his father was doing, and what Gobber was doing, and what Astrid was doing. Did anyone miss him at all? He'd seen and heard no signs of search parties. Of course, the town would be busy rebuilding, but wouldn't they at least try to find him? They could send a few of the teens, who wouldn't be very useful at putting up new houses, but would be effective enough at combing the island to find the chief's missing son, wouldn't they? Surely his father would send _somebody,_ wouldn't he?

Then he realized he was wishing for the executioner's axe to fall on his neck. If the Vikings of Berk came looking for him, they'd eventually find him, and once they found him, they'd kill him. What should he hope for – that the town would show its concern about him by slaying him, or that the town would show its contempt for him by letting him live?

"I can't win," he said out loud. It sounded like a warbling grunt, but he knew what he meant.

"Who said that?" came a voice from nearby. He rose and looked all around in a panic. No matter who it was, it was bad news. Which way should he run to hide? Where could he hide? The voice didn't seem to come from any particular direction. Was it a male voice or a female voice?

He realized, with a shock that almost knocked him off his feet, that the voice had come from above him, and it was female... kind of. It was the voice of another dragon. He resumed looking for some kind of hiding place, then realized he was far too big to hide in any of the places that would have suited his needs as a human. Then he remembered that another dragon wouldn't attack him anyway, or at least he hoped not. He couldn't think of anything to do, so he did nothing but stand there.

With a heavy flutter of wings, a darker-than-dark shape settled gracefully to the ground about twenty feet in front of him. She was another Night Fury, much like him, only she was obviously a lot better at being a dragon than he was. "Well, well, what do we have here?" she said, and walked closer, eyeing him from head to tail as though he were a tasty meal of some kind. "I guess that Terrible Terror was right when she said there was a male Night Fury in this neighborhood! What's your name, handsome?"

Hiccup had the terrible sensation that all the troubles he'd been facing were just a warm-up for what he was facing now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 3

"What's your name, handsome?"

Hiccup had never been the smoothest operator with the ladies. In fact, it couldn't be said that he'd ever "operated" at all. Now, for the first time in his life, a female was putting moves on him, and all he wanted to do was scream and run. He very strongly preferred his females to have only two legs, and the scales were definitely optional.

"Uhh... uhh..."

She made a face that might have been a smile. "Hey, relax – I won't bite! Not much, anyway, and I'm sure you won't complain. I'm Myrkrid. You are...?"

"Uhh... Hiccup."

The female sat down hard; she looked irritated. "Hiccup? What kind of a name is _that?_"

"It's... it's the name my father gave me. It was supposed to scare the trolls away."

"You're talking nonsense!" she snapped. "Why would a Night Fury worry about trolls?"

"It's because..." He paused. Should he tell this strange dragon the truth? He'd never been a liar, and he didn't think this was a good time to start. "It's because I haven't always been a Night Fury. In fact, I was a human until around this time last night."

She spun around and smacked him in the face with her tail, hard. "Listen, whatever-your-name-is, I've been searching for someone like you for _six long years!_ The last thing I want to do tonight is play whatever your stupid game is! Now get your tail off the ground and show me how you can fly! You might be the only male Night Fury within a thousand miles of here, but I'm not mating with you until you show me you can do it!"

Hiccup was stunned, both from the blow (which would have flattened most humans) and from the implications of what she was saying. He'd told her the truth, and she didn't believe him! Of course, if someone had told him a similar story two days ago, he wouldn't have believed it either. He could still barely believe it himself. And then there was this talk about... _mating?_ How could she talk so casually about such a personal subject? She didn't even know him, and she was suggesting that he... He squirmed at the thought. He was _not_ turned on by reptiles! Not even a little! Even if it was Astrid making such a suggestion, he would have resisted – that's not how Vikings did these things! You were supposed to be married first! He could never marry a dragon, no matter what was at stake, but especially not this one! This could be the very dragon that blew up Berk's catapults last night! _Marry a dragon?_ The idea was so...

He backed away a few steps and then sank to the ground, overwhelmed. "_What_ is your _problem?_" she demanded.

"This must be a Thorsday," he said dazedly. "I never could get the hang of Thorsdays."

She stomped over to where he was lying and glared down at him, her face about a foot away from his. "Look," she began. "I think of myself as a reasonable dragon. I know I'm new around here, and there's a lot I don't know. Maybe you're playing hard to get; maybe you're just shy; maybe you've already got a mate and you're trying to spare my feelings. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I'm a female, you're a male, and the Night Furies need what we can make together. We don't have the luxury of letting our emotions get in the way. I can't do that, and neither can you. Now, _please,_ for the good of our species, get yourself up in the air and let's do what we have to do!"

"I can't do that," he whispered. He closed his eyes and waited for the blow.

She poked his muzzle with her own, which startled him into opening his eyes again. "In Tannin's name, _why not?_" she demanded, but her voice had lost its sharp edge. "I know I'm fairly good-looking. I know I'm fertile. It's the right time of the year. I never heard of a male refusing a mating flight unless he was sick or injured, and you don't seem to be either. Give me three good reasons why we can't mount up to the skies right now!"

Hiccup took a deep breath. "One: I don't know how to fly. Two: I'm just not into reptiles. Three: it's hard to think about passion when I'm starving. I could probably keep going, but... can't we talk about something else?"

"There's nothing else worth talking about," she snapped. "But I feel like I'm going in circles, and I don't like that. Only carrion-eaters are supposed to fly in circles. For starters, what's this nonsense about you not knowing how to fly? You never could have lived to adulthood if that was true."

"I told you – I was a human two days ago!" he almost sobbed. "I know it's hard to believe, I'm still having a hard time believing it myself, but it's the truth! It doesn't matter how much you hit me; my story isn't going to change, because it's the only story I've got!" For just a moment, he found the courage to stare back into her eyes, but the sight of a dragon at such close range was still a scary thing. He closed his eyes tightly. "Believe me, if I could tell you any other story at all, I would! _Anything_ would be better than this nightmare!" He waited for her to say something. All he heard was the sounds of the forest at night. When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

He exhaled deeply. She'd finally given up on him. At last, something had gone right! He doubted he'd get any sleep tonight, but at least he could relax a little. When the sun came up, he'd explore the wild parts of the island some more, and maybe find a place to hide for a while. He needed to do some serious thinking if he was going to stay alive.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard her return. She landed right in front of him.

"You're a stubborn one," he commented. "You'd make a good Viking."

"You're a clueless one," she retorted. "You make a terrible dragon. But I can't afford to quit; I've already spent too much time searching for a free male, and I'm too close to give up now. You say you're hungry? I can help with that part, at least. There will be one less distraction between us." She coughed three times and deposited a codfish on the ground right in front of his nose.

It was a whole, raw fish. It was slimy. It might not be completely dead yet. It had dragon-spit all over it.

It was edible. He was extremely hungry. There was something in the back of his brain, something that felt like a part of him and yet not a part of him, that told him the fish would be delicious.

"Well?" she demanded. "Eat it!"

"Is that what Night Furies eat?" he asked timidly.

She smacked herself in the head with her wing. "Oh, for the love of Tannin! Are you trying to tell me you don't even know what _food_ is? _No_ one could be _that_ clueless!"

"Trust me, I've made 'clueless' my life's work," he said ruefully. "At least, that's what everyone in the village always tells me."

"You're sticking with that nonsense about being human?" she demanded in frustration. "How can you be that dim and still come up with such a fanciful story? None of this makes any sense! Who are you, really?"

"I told you, I'm a human!" he burst out. "I'm Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoick the Vast, chief of the village of Berk! I'm a smith's apprentice, part-time inventor, all-around failure, and now that I'm a dragon, I've discovered a whole new universe of things I can fail at..." He fought back the tears. "...and what do I have to do to make you _believe_ me?"

After a few seconds, she put her head right up next to his. "Hiccup, just eat the fish," she ordered him quietly.

He bent down, took the cod in his teeth, put his head back, and forced himself to swallow it whole. He didn't even think about chewing it; it was as though his mouth and throat already knew what to do with a fish. He gulped and blinked.

"Well?" she asked.

"Slimy, yet satisfying," he forced himself to say. "Thank you."

"Do humans eat fish like that?" she asked.

"No, we scale them, remove the bones and the innards, bake them over a fire, pick them up with our hands, and eat them one bite at a time."

She got right in his face. "Okay, so-called human," she demanded. "I just watched you eat that fish like a dragon, like you'd been doing it all your life! Explain _that,_ if you can!"

He backed off half a step. "It... seemed the right way."

She turned as though she meant to hit him with her tail again, but she stopped herself. "Wait a minute! That's _it!_" she exclaimed. "You say you're really a Viking, right?"

"Right," he nodded hesitantly.

"You turned into a dragon last night, right?"

"Yes." He was getting even more nervous; where was she going with this?

"Did dragons raid your village last night?"

"Yes, they did. I got transformed in the middle of the raid."

"Yes! I figured it out!" she crowed. "You were part of that raid, and you got hit in the head with some kind of blunt Viking weapon! You've lost your memory! When you woke up, there was nothing in sight but their village, so you think you're one of them! It makes perfect sense!"

Hiccup shook his head mournfully and groaned. There was nothing he could say or do that would convince her of the truth now. He had to admit, her theory made a lot more sense than the truth did.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," she said happily. "I apologize for hitting you; none of this is your fault. Working this out is going to be a trial for both of us, but it'll be worth it. I'll make you a deal, Hiccup, or whatever your real name is." He braced himself; he didn't expect this "deal" to make anything better for him.

"I'll work with you and re-teach you everything you need to know about being a Night Fury," she went on. "At some point, something will jog your memory and you'll revert to normal."

"What if it doesn't?" he interrupted.

"If that's the case, then I'll teach you anyway, so you'll still be a fully-functioning Night Fury," she answered without missing a beat. "You'll be able to fly, fight, catch fish, and do everything else you were born to do. Does that sound fair to you?"

"What's my part of this deal?" he asked nervously.

"You promise to mate with me as soon as you're able, and you agree to stay with me and help raise our hatchling until he or she is self-sufficient. That's only fair to me."

He squirmed inside. "What if I don't like the sound of this deal?"

Myrkrid's face hardened. "I have _got_ to find a male and produce an egg; nothing else in my life matters anymore. If you refuse to do your duty as a Night Fury, then you're of no use to me. I'll leave you here to work out your own destiny, and I'll continue my search. I have no choice."

In other words, either he could couple with a dragon, or he could starve to death.

Maybe he should just walk back into Berk and knock on his own front door. At least his father would kill him quickly and get it over with.

**o**

_A/N  
Myrkrid is Icelandic for "darkness."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 4

_A/N  
This story has already received over 1200 reads, and over 110 combined favorites, follows, and reviews, in only three chapters. To my faithful readers and my new readers alike, thank you. You're amazing._

**o**

"So... what do you think?"

Myrkrid had offered him the chance to learn how to stay alive, but the price he would pay would be unspeakable. The alternative was slow death by starvation. How could anyone make a choice like that?

"How much time do I have to think this over?"

She actually looked hurt. "You'd even _consider_ whether dying is better than mating with me? You sure know how to make a girl feel special!"

"Oh, man! I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, honest! I mean, if I was a dragon... I mean, if I was _really_ a dragon, I'd probably think you look smokin' gorgeous, or drop-dead hot, or whatever guys are supposed to say to girls to make them feel pretty. I was never any good at that."

"I noticed," she said mournfully.

"How can I explain this?" he burst out. "As dragons go, you're probably the best-looking one I've ever seen. No long sharp fangs, or pointy spines on your back, no warts like a Gronckle, and I don't have to look at you like you've got two heads." He blinked hard. "Am I actually trying to sweet-talk a girl dragon? I feel like such a donkey! But when I think of a pretty lady, I think of someone with long blonde hair, and blue eyes, and soft white skin, and long legs..." He broke off.

"That sounds hideous," Myrkrid said with a shudder. "I'm trying to be patient; I know this delusion in your mind is going to die hard. But I need you to make a decision."

What should he do?

If he let her go, she'd be gone forever, and she'd take his only hope of survival with her. Maybe he could figure some of it out on his own, but he doubted it. He didn't have enough time for that; the longer he went without food, the weaker he'd get and the harder it would be to learn to fly. If she left, he would die.

If she stayed, he'd learn how to feed himself and get away from trouble. He'd have to make a commitment in return that he didn't think he could ever fulfill. But anything could happen in the meantime. If the Vikings got her, or if he changed back into a person somehow, or if she changed her mind once she found out he wasn't really a dragon, he wouldn't have to...

If he accepted her offer, it would probably be horrible. If he refused, it was _guaranteed_ to be horrible. "I accept," he said flatly. She let out the breath she'd been holding. "Now I have a question," he went on. "How long does it take for a young dragon to become self-sufficient?"

"Night Furies can take care of themselves by the time they're yearlings," she replied, "but they don't have enough common sense to stay out of trouble until some time in their second year. That's how long I'll need you to stay with me. That's assuming we don't start another egg in the meantime, hint hint." He squirmed at the thought. Then she smiled. "So, where would you like to start?"

He yawned deeply. A change of subject was just what he needed. "Some sleep would be nice."

"Sleep?" she burst out. "But it's nighttime!"

"Yeah, I noticed that too," he said drily, "and I've been sleeping at night all my life. Why change now? Sleep is really what I need most, even more than food."

She snorted derisively. "You males are all the same! All you care about is eating, sleeping, mating, and flying for the fun of it! If it weren't for us females, we'd never be a civilized race! Still, I suppose you're right – I can't teach you anything if you're exhausted. Let's find a comfortable spot to spend the rest of the night." She wandered away; he rose and followed her. She eventually settled on a bare rocky outcrop.

"Rocks?" he wondered. "That doesn't look very comfortable."

"You're a dragon – you don't need soft squishy comfort," she replied. "A rock slab is the best place for a dragon to sleep. There aren't any bugs to bite your underside." She flamed a square patch of the outcrop and lay down on one side of it. "That's your side," she said,with a head gesture.

He hesitantly lay down where she'd indicated. There was _not_ a lot of space between him and her. He doubted he'd be able to relax enough to fall asleep. He closed his eyes, ignored the warmth from the female dragon who was lying next to him, and tried to think happy thoughts.

After a few seconds, he heard her making... some kind of sounds. She wasn't really singing; there was no melody and there were no words. But it was more than random croons and rumbles. There was something oddly familiar about it, and for some reason, he found it very relaxing. He lay in the dark and listened. He was sound asleep in five minutes.

**o**

When he finally awoke, it was nearly noontime. Myrkrid was lying right up against him, gazing at him contentedly through half-closed eyes, and she'd wrapped a wing around him. For half a moment, he actually felt relaxed and at peace... but then he realized he was lying next to a dragon who wanted his body, and he leaped away with an incoherent bellow.

"Settle down, lover-boy!" she exclaimed. "It's just me! You don't think I'm going to hurt you, do you?"

"Well... that's what dragons always tried to do to me before," he stammered.

She rolled her eyes. "Never mind. I'll go get us some lunch, and then we'll start your lessons." She bounded into the air and flapped out to sea. He watched her go.

_How did she get up into the air so easily?_ he wondered. _Maybe if I keep my eyes open and watch her, I can learn her secrets, and stay alive without having to give anything in return_.

_But that's not right,_ another side of him argued. _You made her a promise_.

_I made a promise to a dragon!_ the first side of him retorted. _It's not like I'd be breaking a promise to a person_.

_She's intelligent, she has feelings, and her actions are completely logical, from her point of view,_ the other side replied. _She's a better person than some Vikings you know_.

_But she wants me to mate with her!_ the first part screamed in his head.

_Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, when did you turn into a liar and a promise-breaker?_

He almost replied, _About the same time as I turned into a dragon,_ but he stifled the thought. It wasn't true. He was still Hiccup, no matter what he looked like on the outside. As an honorable Viking and the son of a chief, he'd been raised to believe that his word meant something. He'd agreed to her terms, and that was that. If fate didn't intervene, he would have to find a way to keep his promise. _That_ was a thought he didn't want to dwell on! He practiced controlling the fins on his tail, just to keep his mind occupied.

She returned about half an hour later, clutching a good-sized tuna in her forepaws. She dropped it on the ground in front of him, then landed. "Today was my lucky day," she said happily. "This fellow is big enough to feed both of us, and I had to make only one trip. Go ahead, take the first bite." He stared at the fish doubtfully.

"Well? Go on!" she demanded, then sighed. "Oh, that's right, you probably don't remember how to eat a tuna. Watch and learn." She pinned the fish to the ground with one paw, tore off a strip with the claws of her other paw, and swallowed it. "Your turn."

He copied her actions. As a Viking, he didn't eat tuna often; they were hard to catch and tended to tear the nets. Tuna for supper was a rare treat. Today, he didn't care what it tasted like; it smelled like food, and he was still ravenously hungry. He devoured more than his fair share. She didn't complain.

"Do Night Furies eat anything other than fish?" he asked.

"Only if we're starving," she replied, and licked her lips clean. "Our systems are made for fish; it takes practice just to keep other kinds of food down, and it never tastes right."

"Any kind of fish will do?"

"Anything except eels," she answered. "Eating an eel will make you very, very sick. You probably won't die from it, but you'll wish you could. Even the smell of an eel is repulsive." She shook her head in disgust. "Okay, we've taken care of two of your Big Four, sleeping and eating. Mating will have to wait, unfortunately. It's time to start your flying lessons." She ambled away, looking for something.

"Will I get sick if I fly on a full stomach?" he asked nervously as he came up next to her.

She slapped him on the flank with her tail, but it wasn't nearly as hard as she'd hit him yesterday. "Why are you being so resistant?" she demanded. "Can't you understand that I have every reason to make you into an awesome dragon, and no reason at all to hurt you or do anything bad to you? I _want_ you to succeed! I _want_ you to fly! I _want_ you to chase me into the air and catch me! I..." She didn't finish, but he could guess what she meant. _I want you, period_. He shivered.

As squeamish as the thought made him, there was another aspect to this that kept sneaking into his mind, and resisting all his attempts to chase it away. For the first time in his life, a female wanted him. She wasn't a female that he could ever want in return, of course... but after a short lifetime of nothing but rejection and loneliness, just knowing that someone _could_ like him was very close to amazing.

He blinked hard and focused on his surroundings. She had led him to a cliff, about sixty feet high. Below them was a secluded cove. A small waterfall fed the fresh-water lagoon that flowed out toward the sea. Moss and lush grass covered the ground, and huge old trees lined the sheer edges of the cliffs. It looked like a very peaceful place.

"This is a perfect spot for a flying school," she decided. "No one will find us here; there are rocks for you to climb on and jump off of; and we're close to the ocean, so it won't be hard for me to keep us fed."

"Once I get down there, how will I get out again?" he asked nervously.

"You'll fly out, of course," she smiled. "It might take a few days, but you'll get there. Shall we begin?"

"Uhhh... what do I do?"

"First, relax a little. Stand on the edge and spread your wings. Hold them firm; that's good. Now get your tail straight out behind you... a little straighter... and fan your tail fins into a V-shape. Not so flat; you'll get no stability that way. That's better."

"Okay, now what?" he asked.

"Jump," she said simply.

Gulp.

"You _do_ realize, that's a sixty-foot drop?" he quavered.

"_You_ do realize that you're a dragon, right?" she shot back. "Your wings will hold you up and you'll glide right across the water. Try to land on all four feet at once when you land. I'll join you on the bottom and we'll continue from there."

He looked down again. "I never did this before."

"Of course you have; you just don't remember," she said. When he still didn't jump, she began to lose her cool. "Look – do you want to fly or don't you?"

Did he want to fly?

He hadn't looked at the problem from that angle before. All of a sudden, it wasn't about turning into a dragon, or trying to stay alive, or fending off an amorous female reptile. All of a sudden, it was about him and a sixty-foot drop.

If he tried to say he'd never dreamed of flying, he'd be a liar. Of course he had! He never talked about it with anyone, of course – they'd mock him for being a useless dreamer – but he'd often looked up at the clouds, and gazed out to sea, and wondered what it would be like to fly. Now he was on the verge of finding out.

He glanced over his shoulder at Myrkrid. "Am I about to become the first Viking ever to fly?"

"The last time I looked, Vikings couldn't fly," she said drily. "_You_ are a Night Fury. If you don't believe me, glide down into that cove and look at your reflection in the water. Tell me what you see."

"That's… that's just on the outside," he argued. "On the inside, where it really matters, I'm a Viking. _I_ am a _Viking!_"

"And you're really missing your imaginary past as a brave, powerful warrior?"

"Actually, I was more of a skinny, accident-prone kid."

She shook her head in disbelief. "And you're fighting tooth and claw to hang onto that past, when you could be the most powerful dragon in existence, just by admitting that that's what you are? You're not just deluded – you're _crazy!_ Now jump off that cliff and glide!"

He looked down. "Isn't there an easier way to start? I mean, can't I jump off a small rock first, and work my way up to this?"

"This _is_ how you start," she came back. "There's nothing else worth trying first. Everything you are, and everything you do, depends on flying, and you can't do it halfway. No fly, no fire; no fly, no food; no fly, no survive. A downed dragon is a dead dragon. Straighten your tail again, and jump."

He looked down again. Then he looked up. He suddenly remembered a dragon raid from eight months ago. He'd hidden in a small storage shed that had promptly been smashed by a Monstrous Nightmare's tail-swipe. He had been trapped for nearly an hour. As the other Vikings had finally pulled him out of the debris, grumbling about the extra work he'd made for them, he'd looked up at the distant dragons as they flapped away to the north, and thought, _I wish I could fly away, too_.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and… hesitated.

She lowered her shoulder and pushed him off.

He panicked. For a moment, he plunged almost straight down, his wings fluttering limply above him. It was mostly instinct that brought his wings down and spread them wide. Just like that, his descent turned into something like a smooth glide. His tail carried him around in a circle before he remembered to straighten it. He found himself feeling as if he was motionless in the air, except for the wind in his face. The pressure of the air under his wings held him up. A slight twitch of his tail changed the direction he was facing. The ground was far below him, and was slowly coming up to meet him.

In that moment, his entire universe changed. Even his transformation into a dragon paled in significance to that moment. It wasn't the fact that it was his first flight. It wasn't the fact that it was his first experience of what a dragon could do. It was the fact that, for the first time _ever,_ he felt a taste of what it might mean to be something more than Hiccup the Useless.

Then one of his wings dipped slightly, he went into a spin, and before he could figure out how to recover, he'd fallen into the water with a huge splash. He dog-paddled to the nearest bank, and watched as Myrkrid settled gracefully to the ground next to him.

"That's the other reason this place is perfect," she said nonchalantly. "Every dragon spins out and crashes on his first glide. I figured it would hurt less if you landed in the water than on the rocks, which is where most young dragons land."

"Thank you for that," he nodded, and shook himself dry. "Did I mention that I don't know how to swim?"

"Night Furies don't swim," she said off-handedly. "We need cliffs to jump off of, or solid ground to push against when we take off. If we end up in the water, we usually never get out, unless we're close to shore like you were. It's a bad idea. A downed dragon is a drowned dragon. Ready to try gliding again?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" She didn't sound surprised. "So there are some aspects of dragonhood that you _don't_ despise with all your heart?"

"I'll admit, I've got to make some changes in the way I think."

"Then let's start with that name of yours. 'Hiccup' is no name for a self-respecting dragon, and _definitely_ not for a Night Fury! You need a name that reflects what you are. Something that won't embarrass me every time I call you by name."

"We can't have that, can we?" he smirked. "What are you going to call me – Svarturbilun? Black Failure?"

"Let me tell you something." She stuck her nose right up against his until he backed off. "I don't care what kind of a failure you think you are, or how many times you think you've messed up before today. You are _going_ to succeed as a dragon, for three reasons. One: the fact that you're here, grown to maturity, is proof that you've succeeded in the past. Two: I taught all my children to fly, so I know I can teach you. Three: if you fail, then I don't mate. That isn't an option. Either you will become an awesome dragon, or…"

"Or what?" he asked.

"Or else!" she answered, showing all her teeth.

"You have a funny way of making me want to be intimate with you," he quavered, backing off another step.

"Oh, _honestly!_" she burst out. "Do you think I'm going to beat you up every time you turn around? Why are you so fearful? I think you might be afraid of your own shadow!" Then her expression changed. "That's your name. Dimmadreki. Shadow Dragon. It reflects what you're going to be – an invisible shadow in the night. Will you answer to that, until you remember your real name?"

He looked surprised. "That might be the first time you've asked me a question without telling me what my answer ought to be," he replied. "Yes, I guess I'll answer to that."

"Okay, Dimmadreki, climb up on that rock. You need to try gliding again. Remember to keep your tail straight, and this time, work on keeping your wings level."

**o**

_A/N  
"Dimma dreki" are the Icelandic words for "shadow dragon," according to Google Translate. According to a reader who speaks Icelandic (thank you, Magnor), it really means "darkness dragon" and isn't quite grammatically right, but to an English-speaking ear, it makes a fairly cool-sounding name for a Night Fury._


	5. Chapter 5

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 5

It took Hiccup seven tries before he got the hang of gliding. Each time, he found a new mistake to make. After the sixth time, he crawled out the water and asked, "Are you sure Black Failure isn't a better name for me?"

"You're actually doing very well," she answered. "You're getting all the common mistakes out of the way very early in the process. When it's your time to actually fly, you'll have already mastered all the basics; there won't be many mistakes left for you to make. Why are you looking at me that way?"

"Nobody ever said anything good to me about making mistakes before," he said thoughtfully. "In fact, not many people have ever said anything good about _anything_ I ever did. I'm not used to that."

"I'll promise you something, Dimmadreki," she said quietly. "I'll correct you when you need to be corrected, but I'll also tell you when you're doing something right. That ought to go without saying, but whatever messed up your head did a really good job of it. Don't be afraid of me, and don't think I'll say nothing when praise is due."

"I'm definitely not used to that," he answered quietly, and climbed back up on his rock. Wings out, straight and level; tail straight; fins in a V-shape; tuck up the legs as soon as you take off; head straight ahead; jump vertically with some forward motion… and it worked. _It worked!_ He glided smoothly across the water and reached land with twenty feet to spare. His landing wasn't exactly graceful, but seeing how it was his first controlled landing ever, he didn't feel bad about that. He looked across the water to where Myrkrid was watching him.

"I did it!" he shouted. "I did it!"

"You did," she nodded with a trace of a smile. "Now climb up that rock to your right, and do it again." He did. He went back and forth six more times before she decided he'd really mastered the lesson, and three more times after that because it was so much fun.

"That's a good day's work," she announced. "Let's call it a day, and we'll do some more tomorrow." He plopped down on the ground; he hadn't realized how wound-up he was until he tried to relax. She lay down a few feet away, facing him.

"Now, tell me, who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Hiccup, also known as Dimmadreki. I'm a Viking trapped in a dragon's body, trying to adjust to a new life that I never wanted, even though that new life has a few advantages I never thought of before."

She sighed in frustration. "Your memory still hasn't returned? I was hoping that getting you off the ground would snap you back to normal. Okay. I can be patient."

"I think I'm going to try that patience," he said quietly. "But that's nothing new for me. Will you tell me _your_ story?"

"My story?"

"You know… where you came from, what you've been through. I've told you my story, but I know just about nothing about you."

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "You've told me what you _think_ your story is, but that's not the same thing."

"Yeah, whatever!" he burst out. "I'd still like to know a little more about you, seeing how my life is in your hands. Paws. Whatever."

"Okay, I guess," she said, "but it's not very interesting. I was hatched in a free nest in Siberia, far to the east of here. I've seen seventeen cycles of the sun, I've had –"

"You're seventeen?" Hiccup blurted out.

"Yes. Why does that surprise you?"

"I was just imagining my father's reaction if he found out I was getting involved with an older woman," he replied in a subdued voice.

"Seeing how we could live four hundred years or more if the humans don't get us, an age difference of two or three years is no big deal," she went on. "Anyway, I've had two mates. The first one and I hatched five eggs together before the Cossacks got him with arrows. I kind of miss that one now and then. The second one… let himself get enslaved. He left me, and I didn't dare try to go to him after that. Ever since then, I've been moving westward, searching everywhere to find another mate. I've lost contact with my parents and all my offspring, but I expected that; that's how it is with Night Furies. You could say I've gotten lonesome."

"What does that mean?" he wondered. "How 'is it' with Night Furies?"

"We're very rare; I'm sure you noticed that, even if you can't remember it," she answered. "That's because most females lay only one egg a year. We aren't like those Gronckles who can crank out eggs by the dozen. A handful of us can lay two at a time, but I've never been one of them. When you consider how often we get shot at by angry humans with pointy things, it's a wonder we haven't been driven to extinction. That means we can't let ourselves get too concentrated, or one ill-timed attack from the humans could wipe us out, so our young have to find other homes as soon as they're able. It also means that mating and raising our young is the most important thing we can do. That's why you're so important to me, Dimmadreki, and once you get your memory back, you'll realize that I'm just as important to you. I hope we'll pair off for life, but even if you give me just one egg, that's still more than I've achieved in the past six years."

"Do feelings have anything to do with it?" he asked anxiously.

"Feelings have nothing to do with pairing off. We pair off because we have to," she replied. "If you keep making eggs and raising young with the same dragon, you're going to develop some strong feelings toward that dragon, but those are the _results_ of mating, not the _reason_ for it. Dimmadreki, it's possible that you and I are the last Night Furies in existence anywhere. You intrigue me, and I think I could like you, but my feelings don't matter. Neither do yours. We're going to mate because we have to. We owe it to our species to make as many little versions of ourselves as we can. I don't have to like you, and you don't have to like me, as long as you can be a male for me."

"That's so impersonal!" he burst out. "How can you talk about pairing off for life with a total stranger?"

"Okay, mister Viking wanna-be. How do you think the Vikings handle things like that?"

"Well, once we're in our early to mid-teens, our parents choose a partner for us. The two families make the agreement and work out the bride-price and the other payments. A few months later, the two people get married. Sometimes they already know each other; sometimes they meet for the first time at the altar. From then on, it's their job to work out their relationship together, with the help of their extended families. Children usually come pretty quickly after that. Divorces happen only if something goes seriously wrong, like wife-beating."

"You meet for the first time when you pair off? Is that what you're telling me?" she demanded. "That sounds pretty impersonal to me. How is the human way better than the dragon way?"

"I guess it's what I'm used to," he said defensively.

She slid a bit closer to him. "Did you have a mate before we met?"

"No… no, I've never been married," he said, flustered, as he edged away. "They told me I would be quite a prize because I was the chief's son, but I think my dad was waiting until I got a little more manly so he could demand a better dowry. There was a girl I really liked, but I don't think she liked me back. I'm not even sure she knew I existed. Most of the time, the girls smacked me around as much as the boys did."

"That sounds like a perfect nightmare you've conjured up for yourself," she said softly. "You are going to be _so_ glad to get your memory back and leave all that imaginary nonsense behind!"

He sighed. "There's nothing I can do to prove to you that I'm telling the truth?"

"Of course not – your story is just too improbable!" she exclaimed. "People don't just turn into Night Furies! Maybe if you found a Viking who could confirm your story, I might believe that, but you can't, so you won't, so that's that."

"What if I _could_ find a Viking who could confirm my story?" he demanded.

"I don't know how this hypothetical Viking could convince _me,_ seeing how I don't speak any human languages," she replied readily. "Dimmadreki, I understand this is hard for you; you can't see out of the prison that your own mind has built for you. I assure you, it will pass; it's just a matter of time."

"Fine, whatever. Can you tell me something else? You said your second mate got enslaved? I can't imagine anybody taking control over a Night Fury. What's that about?"

She stared at the ground for a few seconds. "There are dragons in the world, even more rare than Night Furies. They call themselves Titans, but the rest of us just call them Monsters. They're unspeakably huge, with six eyes and a mouth big enough to swallow most dragons whole. They aren't as intelligent as a Night Fury, or even a Nadder, but they're very crafty. If you look in their eyes, they have the power to take over your will. You become enslaved to them. If they demand that you go out, you go. If they demand that you bring them food, you bring it. If you don't provide enough food..." She took a deep breath. "...they eat you alive." He gasped.

She suddenly stared into Hiccup's eyes. "That's why dragons raid human towns – because a Monster has enslaved them and is forcing them to do it. No sane dragon would attack a town full of spears and swords and nets and all the other clever things humans have invented to kill dragons with, just to grab some food, when the seas are full of fish that are free for the taking! The dragons have no choice. Either they bring the food that their Monster wants, or they die.

"The fact that dragons raided this town of yours... Berk? ...is proof that there's a Monster somewhere nearby, with a nest full of enslaved dragons obeying its every command. Because you were part of that raid, that means you were enslaved, too. You ought to be thankful to the Viking who hit you on the head, because that's probably what broke the enslavement and set you free again."

"Are you sure I'm not still enslaved?" he asked, just to test her logic.

"There's no mistaking an enslaved dragon," she answered. "There's a look in their eyes, a cloudy deadness that can't be mistaken for anything else. You don't have that look. You're a free dragon like me. When we met, that was one of the first things I checked you for. If you were enslaved, I would have kept on flying."

"Is there a way to break the enslavement?" he wondered.

"A stunning blow to the head works, sometimes," she replied, "but a blow that hard can kill if it lands in the wrong place. The only other thing that works is the death of the Monster, but they live even longer than Night Furies do, so that doesn't happen very often. They're too big and thick-skinned to kill. Besides, if you get close enough to fight them, you usually wind up looking in their eyes and joining their enslaved army."

"So all those dragons are raiding us, and killing us, and stealing our food, and they don't want any of it? That's unbelievable."

"Believe it, Dimmadreki. That's going to be the down side of recovering your memory – you'll remember everything the Monster forced you to do. It's going to be traumatic. If you stay with me, I can help you get through it."

Hiccup thought he might scream. _She_ was the one who was living with a delusion, but she was completely convinced that it was _him!_ He'd have to think about her suggestion about finding a Viking who might support his story. But that would involve a lot more than just breaching the language barrier. It would mean finding a Viking who knew him reasonably well, and who wouldn't kill him on sight. That would result in a very short list of Vikings.

Actually, it would mean a list with just one name on it. Even that one was not a sure thing. But it could happen. That was a start, at least.

Then he had another thought. "So we might be the only two Night Furies in existence, and we also might be the only dragons in this neighborhood who can think for ourselves?"

Myrkrid nodded. "We're carrying a huge responsibility, you and I. The survival of our species might depend on you learning to fly, so we can mate. That's why it's so important for me to teach you."

"Dragons only mate in the sky?" It's not like he _wanted_ to know, but at the same time, part of him wanted to have some idea what was going on.

"Only in the sky, and only at high altitude," she nodded. "We mate in free-fall, and we tend to black out during the process. It's kind of intense." She gave him a look that made him very nervous. "Are you getting ideas?"

"No! No, not me! I just... like to learn new things, that's all."

"I'll teach you all kinds of new things before we're done," she purred. "I think you'll like some of them." She burned a patch of grass and lay down on one side of it. "Are you ready to get some sleep?" she asked. He nodded and lay down on the other half of the scorched patch. She slid toward him; he nervously edged away.

"_Now_ what's your problem?" she demanded. "You've been fine with me all day; why are you getting nervous now?"

"I guess you kept me busy all day, so I didn't have time to think about... things," he said lamely. "Now I've got time to think, and you're still a scary-looking Night Fury, and..."

"I've been a Night Fury all day, in case you hadn't noticed!" she exclaimed irritatedly. "And so have you! But if that's the problem, then I've got good news. I'll be keeping you just as busy tomorrow, and the day after, and probably for many days after that. If that's what it takes to get you to relax around me, then, Dimmadreki, I will keep you _busier_ than busy!"

She let him keep a few inches of space between them. She repeated her odd little crooning lullaby, and it put him to sleep just as quickly as it had done last night. When he awoke the next morning, he found her asleep right next to him, with one wing wrapped around him.

He pulled away, slowly, so he wouldn't wake her. It wasn't her intentions toward him that made him nervous; he could avoid thinking about that if he worked at it. It was just the fact that he wasn't used to lying next to a dragon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 6

"Today won't be as intense as yesterday," Myrkrid announced. "You'll finish your gliding lessons, and then we'll sleep for the rest of the day. Tonight, you'll try flying, and you'll start adjusting to your new nocturnal schedule. It's time to put the 'night' back in Night Fury. By the way, how did you sleep?"

"Quite well," he responded as he stretched. "Can I ask you something? You were making some kind of sounds when we were going to sleep, and –"

"I was? Oh, this is embarrassing." She looked away. "That was a dragon lullaby. I haven't done that since I had hatchlings. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry if I kept you awake."

"Far from it," he replied. "It was very relaxing; I think it helped me fall asleep. It made me feel... safe."

"Is that something you're not familiar with?" she asked.

"I don't think I've felt safe since the day my mother died," he said quietly.

Myrkrid stamped her foot, almost angrily. "So I'm treating you like a hatchling, and you're thinking of me like your mother? From my point of view, this is _not_ going well!"

"No, not like my mother," he tried to reassure her. "I trust you because you've shown that you want what's best for me. You're starting to ask me what I want, instead of telling me. I can talk to you, and I feel like you're actually listening. To me, that spells 'friend'." He paused. "Of course, that's something else I'm not so familiar with."

After staring at a tree leaf for a few seconds, she said, "I'll go get us some breakfast," and flapped away.

Hiccup spent the morning learning how to turn and bank. It came more easily to him than gliding in a straight line. "You're learning a lot faster than I expected, Dimmadreki," his teacher called up to him. "Could it be that your dragon instincts are kicking in?"

He landed in front of her. "I was wondering about that. I still feel like I'm Hiccup, as far as my thinking and feeling goes, but I'm thinking and feeling with a dragon's brain now. I probably have reflexes and instincts that I never had before. I guess, the longer I live in this body, the more natural it will feel. I might even reach the point where I'm so familiar with being a Night Fury that I wouldn't want to go back to being human, even if I could. That's kind of a scary thought."

"That's not exactly what I was getting at," she fussed. "But go ahead and think that way, if it gets you into the air faster. Speaking of which, try that left-hand bank turn again."

By lunch time, he'd learned just about everything about gliding that she could think of. "The only thing you haven't done is soar on a thermal, and you can't do that in this cove. I'll show you how that works after you've learned to fly. We'll start on that tonight."

Fly? Tonight? Just like that? For a quick moment, he was horrified at the thought. Surely he must have to do more prep work first! Two days ago, he'd been walking because that's all he could do; could he become a creature of the sky, as quickly as that?

Myrkrid thought so, and she seemed to know what she was talking about. In a way, it came down to one simple question: did he trust her?

Yes, he did.

"Get some sleep while you can," she suggested. "We're going to be up all night. That's what Night Furies do."

He lay down next to her, still hesitant about being that close to a dragon. She edged over toward him; he edged away.

"What's it going to take for you to stop treating me like the enemy?" she asked.

"I've spent my entire life thinking of dragons as the enemy," he replied. "Fighting and killing dragons was my life's ambition. It's hard enough that I _am_ one now; it's even harder to try and fall asleep right next to one."

She took a deep breath. "How many dragons do you think you killed?"

"None," he sighed. "I failed at that, too. I think there were people in my village who counted how many dragons _would_ have been killed by other Vikings, but I saved them with my foul-ups."

"If that was what really happened, then it would be good news," she replied. She paused. "Would it bother you if I wound up singing my lullaby again?"

He nodded. "Until I get more used to being around dragons, I probably need it to fall asleep." He laid his head down and listened to her soft crooning. The next thing he knew, it was dark, and she was nudging him awake with her nose.

"Wake up, flight-school cadet!" she ordered him. "Your first real lesson awaits! You've been a promising student so far; don't disappoint me!"

He shook off his sleepiness quickly. He was actually excited about this! Gliding was fun, but the thought of flying, actually flying… the fact that he _needed_ to learn to fly in order to feed himself and stay alive had become secondary in his mind. He could see those dragons again, flying away from the village after that raid, gracefully cutting through the air. _Am I about to join you?_ He sorted through the mistakes he'd already made, and resolved not to repeat any of them.

"You're going to start just like you were gliding," she began. "As soon as you jump off the rock, start flapping. Remember to keep your tail straight. The most common mistake is to not flap evenly with both wings; you're bound to be a little off with the first few flaps, but don't overcompensate. So far, so good?" He nodded eagerly. "Just gain some height and get comfortable with the fact that you're flying. Once you're in the air, I'll join you and talk you through the next steps. Any time you're ready."

He stood up on the rock, fanned his tail, spread his wings, crouched, and jumped.

His first flap was too strong on the right side; he veered off to the left. His second flap kept him level, his third flap got him back on course… and he lost track of his flaps from that moment on. The far edge of the cove loomed up in front of him; he tipped his tail up, turned slightly to pass between the tops of two big trees, and he was out of the cove and into clear air.

Just like that, he was flying.

The ground was below him, and slowly falling away. The clouds were above him, and he knew he could touch them if he worked at it. He turned in a broad circle to orient himself; he didn't want to overfly the village by accident. A huge smile split his face, and he let out a roar of delight. _He was flying!_

_If only the Vikings could see me now!_ he thought. _Except they can't see me because I'm almost invisible in the dark, and they'd try to kill me if they __could__ see me... okay, never mind. I'll enjoy this pleasure without them. I guess I'm used to that._

"Slow down, hotshot!" Myrkrid came up behind him and just above him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Does it matter? Look at me! I can _fly!_"

"Fly straight and level for a minute so I can talk to you." He reluctantly obeyed, and she pulled up right next to him. "First off, and I tell you this honestly, I'm pleased at how well you're doing. Even if you'd regained your memory, you'd still be a little rusty from too much time on the ground. I expected a near-spinout or two for sure."

"It just makes so much sense," he replied. "I feel how the air moves across my wings and my tail – _my_ wings! _My_ tail! That sounds so weird! But anyway, I feel the air, and I can feel how it affects the way I move, and I can tell how much to turn my tail to control where I'm going… it's almost easy! Yes, I know you've got a lot to teach me, but this is my first time in the air, and… can I just _fly_ for a few minutes?"

"You're a male Night Fury, all right," she smiled. "Okay, we've got all night. Enjoy yourself for a while. I'll follow at a distance; I'll catch up with you when you're ready, and we'll talk about what you're going to learn next." She dropped back out of sight. For the next half hour, Hiccup just flew. He swooped, and banked, and climbed, and put on bursts of speed, and glided. It was as though he'd left all his troubles behind on the ground. He had never felt so contented in all his life.

At last, she caught up with him. "I hate to ruin your joyride," she said, almost apologetically, "but there are some intermediate moves I want to show you before the sun comes up."

"Intermediate moves?" he wondered. "Am I done with the basics already?"

"The basics are all about controlling your height, choosing your heading, and not panicking when you hit a gust of wind," she replied. "You've got those mastered. Now I'm going to show you how to turn while you're flapping." He mastered that one within five minutes. She showed him loops and figure-eights and vertical turns; she showed him upwards and downwards chandelles; she got him into a flat spin and showed him how to recover. No matter what she threw at him, he followed her on the first or second try.

At last, out of ideas, she suggested a game of tag. "The first one to tag the other's tail with a paw wins bragging rights for the rest of the night," she decided. "Fly straight out for ten flaps, turn, and go!" They separated, and after a few seconds, they turned and raced toward each other.

Hiccup knew she'd expect him to go for a quick tag, so he didn't. He turned to the right instead. She turned tighter than he thought she could, and came up behind him fast. He waited until she was almost close enough to tag him; then he flipped upside down and put his tail "down" toward the sky, both to keep it out of her reach and to make himself climb. At the same time, he flung his legs out; the sudden drag slowed him down dramatically, and she shot right underneath him. He rolled right-side-up, let gravity pull him down, and reached out with his forepaw as he dropped behind her. She turned sharply and whipped her tail away from him, but he didn't miss by much.

"Hold it right there!" she shouted. "Time out! I never taught you to fly upside down! Are you _still_ going to tell me you know nothing about being a dragon?"

"It just seemed like a good thing to do," he protested. "I've never lied to you."

"I'm not calling you a liar," she retorted, "but I _am_ calling you a very good flier. Remind me not to make any more bets against you. Let's land and get some rest; we're on a night schedule now, and the sun will be up soon."

"Do we _have_ to land now?" he asked wistfully.

She had to smile. "All right, ten more minutes. But head away from the village; we don't want the Vikings to see us." He spent his ten minutes in a string of shallow climbs and dives, then reluctantly joined Myrkrid in the cove.

"What are you teaching me tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow is lesson number one about your fires, and if there's enough time, I'll show you the Night Fury specialty, the power dive. The night after that, you'll learn how to take off from flat ground, and you'll fly with me and watch as I show you how we catch fish. The next night, we'll try some high-altitude flying, and I'll show you some basic evasive maneuvers, in case the Vikings start throwing spears at you. If you think you know everything, let me reassure you – you're just beginning!"

"Awesome," he yawned, and stretched out on the ground. She lay next to him, making sure not to come right up against him. She forgot to sing her song, but he fell asleep quickly anyway.

**o**

Alvin the Treacherous couldn't believe his ears. He'd just gotten a report from his informant on Berk, delivered by Savage, and the news made no sense at all.

"_One_ search party?" he demanded. "The chief's only son disappears, and his father sends out only _one_ search party?"

"Apparently, the dragons did a number on Berk's food supply," Savage reported. "Chief Stoick has everyone fishing, even if they're just dangling lines off the docks. There aren't any people to spare for searching."

"But that's his only son!" the Outcast chief burst out. "What kind of father would let his boy disappear and not even try to find him?"

"My source says the boy has disappeared in the past, and always came back a day or two later. No one is panicking over there yet."

Alvin glared at his second-in-command. "When they _do_ start panicking, I expect to be notified."

"You will, Alvin, you will," Savage said soothingly, and quickly left before his boss got mad.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 7

The next few days fell into a pattern. Both dragons would sleep in their cove during the day. As the sun went down, they would wake up and eat their breakfast; Myrkrid still had to catch it, but Hiccup no longer had any trouble eating it. She would spend the night teaching him about some aspect of being a dragon – breathing fire, catching fish, or the finer points of flying. He always found an excuse to just fly for a while, no matter what she wanted to teach him. She got used to that, and stopped resisting him. As the sun came up, they'd return to the cove and go to sleep again.

He was a fast learner. He'd always loved learning new things, especially things with practical applications, and nothing could be more practical than keeping himself alive. Add the fact that flying was the most amazingly exciting thing he'd ever done, and the result was a student who couldn't get enough of his lessons. He soon found that he had a natural aptitude for a lot of what she was teaching him. She attributed it to his dragon past, of course, which continued to frustrate him. But her insistence that he'd never been a human had no impact on her teaching, or on his learning.

After a week had passed, he realized he'd grown accustomed to Myrkrid being around. He didn't look at her and think, "scary dragon;" he looked at her and thought, "friend." Of course, her intentions toward him were scary in their own right, but that was still far in the future. Yes, she was a big black reptile, but so was he, and she treated him with more kindness than he'd known in years. He no longer pulled away when she lay down right next to him, and it didn't bother him to wake up and find that she'd wrapped a wing around him while they slept. In fact, he realized that he kind of liked it.

_It's my dragon brain,_ he decided. _It's changing the way I think. Can I fight it? Should I fight it? How do you rebel against your own brain? There are moments when I really __like__ the direction it's taking me._

One morning as they settled down for a good day's sleep, he turned to her. "Tonight, I want to do something different. I want to find the Viking who can prove that I used to be human once."

"How do you plan to do that?" she asked indulgently.

"I'll land next to his house tonight and scratch some runes in the dirt," he answered. "I'll give him a challenge that he can't resist, and tell him where to meet me. Tomorrow night, I'll meet with him while you watch and listen from the shadows, and you'll find out that I've been telling you the truth all along."

"How is this Viking going to convince me of anything, seeing how I won't understand a word he's saying?" she wondered.

"I'll give him written instructions to do certain things, like touch me on the nose with his left hand. You and I will agree on those things beforehand. When he does them, you'll know I'm communicating peacefully with him, and that will prove that I used to be just like him."

"You're assuming he's going to be peaceful," she said. "What if he sees you and tries to kill you?"

"I can fly away if he tries anything," he answered readily. "I'm not a prisoner of the ground anymore. And I've got a very strong feeling he wouldn't do that."

"If he does, I'll take him out," she growled.

"I really, really wish you wouldn't do that," he asked her. "This guy is a friend... sort of... or he used to be. It would bother me to see him hurt."

"That's nothing to how _I'd_ feel if I saw _you_ hurt!" she shot back. The intensity of her reply surprised him. "Dimmadreki, you've become more than just a convenient male for me. You're smart, you're brave, you learn fast, you're kind and polite... I like you. I really, really like you. I don't want to lose you. This whole idea of yours sounds dangerous and a waste of time. What's the point? What will it change?"

He was speechless.

"Oh, I know," she went on. "You think you're a human on the inside, and the idea of a dragon liking you that way must be appalling. But I –"

"No, it's not that," he cut in hastily. "It's that... no female ever said that to me before. I don't know how I'm supposed to react."

"Never?" She was quite surprised.

"Where I come from, the girls go for guys who are tall, muscular, heroic, and stupid. I never had a chance. Now a nice lady dragon is telling me all the things I dreamed of hearing from a human lady, and I'm all mixed up inside."

She swung her tail toward him, and he tensed up for the blow. But she didn't hit him. Her tail fins swished along his side in what could only be called a caress. A small part of him wanted to scream and run, but a larger part of him wanted to close his eyes and enjoy it. He honestly wasn't sure which part he should listen to. He quivered.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked softly.

It took him a second to start thinking again. "Yes, there is. You can help me fix it so you aren't mixed up too. Go with me to Berk tomorrow night. See for yourself that I'm not deluded or forgetful. If you understand my past, then maybe you'll understand _me_ a little better."

She sighed resignedly. "You're really determined to walk into a village full of humans who want to kill you on sight, just so you can reclaim a piece of a past that made you miserable? Dimmadreki, because I like you, I'll do this for you. _Once_. I'm doing it only to keep you safe, not because I expect to learn anything. If it doesn't work the way you think it will, then neither of us is going back there ever again. Deal?"

"Deal," he nodded. They closed their eyes. After a few seconds, he quietly asked, "Myrkrid, could you sing your little song for me again?" She smiled and began to croon. The sound completely relaxed him and filled him with peace, even though he knew it wasn't a lullaby anymore. For her, it had become a love song.

**o**

Two nights later, two darker-than-dark shapes flew in a broad circle over Berk. "Explain to me again why we're walking into this trap," she asked him.

"The runes I left in his front yard were very clear. I said, WANT TO KNOW THE STATS ON NIGHT FURIES? COME TO THE RING TOMORROW, MIDNIGHT, ALONE. That will entice his curiosity like nothing else on earth, and it said nothing that would make him want to bring anyone else along. He'll be here, and he'll be here by himself."

"I hope you're right," she said doubtfully. "Where's the ring?"

"It's that big circular pit to our left," he explained. "We'll meet him outside of it – I won't risk getting trapped inside, no matter how much I trust my friend. We'll land next to that raised stone platform next to it. You'll stay out of sight, and watch and listen. If something does go wrong, you'll be close enough to do something about it."

They landed and took their positions, and waited.

About fifteen minutes later, they saw a tiny light approaching. Myrkrid stared into the darkness. "He looks big," she said nervously.

"He's very big, but he has a good heart," Hiccup replied. "He's just about the only one who was never cruel to me."

"That's setting the bar pretty low for what 'good' means, but I'll go along with you for now," she nodded. She stopped talking as the young man with the lamp got closer.

"Hello?" he called in a high, squeaky voice. "Night Fury expert? I did what you said; I'm here alone. Where are you?"

Hiccup coughed quietly. He hadn't realized how hard he was to see in the dark. He should have known – every Viking had tried to see the Night Furies during the dragon raids, including him, and all had failed – but it was still a novelty to stand twenty feet away from a boy with a lamp and remain unseen.

Fishlegs jumped at the sound of his cough. He stared in the direction the sound came from. "Uhh, hello?" he called. Hiccup opened his narrowed eyes wide and took a step toward him.

The big young man froze, terrified. Hiccup quietly walked to within ten feet of him, then stopped and began scratching runes on the rocks with his claw. He wrote them upside-down so Fishlegs could read them right-side-up; it took him a while.

YOU WANTED A NIGHT  
FURY EXPERT? HERE I AM

Fishlegs stared at the runes. He stared at the dragon. He stared at the runes again. He stared at the dragon again. He finally found his voice. "Am I a dead man?"

Hiccup chuckled and shook his head "no."

"Okay," Fishlegs quavered. "I almost got killed by a Deadly Nadder in dragon training this morning, a Gronckle blew my shield away this afternoon, and now I'm standing here having a friendly conversation with what might be a Night Fury. I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle."

Hiccup chuckled again and wrote.

NIGHT FURY STATS:  
SPEED = MAXIMUM  
FIREPOWER = 10+  
DIET = FISH

As an afterthought, he added,

INTELLIGENCE = HICCUP

That got Fishlegs' full attention. "How do you know about Hiccup?" he stage-whispered.

MAGIC IS AT WORK HERE.  
I AM HICCUP

Fishlegs slowly shook his head. "Umm… no. Hiccup is a skinny guy with 18 intelligence and a Luck factor of 3. You're a big black dragon. One of these things is not like the other."

MY FATHER IS STOICK, THE CHIEF.  
I DISAPPEARED THE NIGHT OF THE  
LAST DRAGON RAID.  
HOW ELSE CAN I CONVINCE YOU?

"Let me think… uhh… okay. Name our other three friends."

YOU MEAN FOUR FRIENDS, RIGHT?

"Uh-huh. I was trying to trick you." He suddenly looked panic-stricken. "What am I _doing?_ I'm trying to trick a _dragon!_ That _never_ ends well in the stories."

NO HARD FEELINGS. OUR FRIENDS  
ARE SNOTLOUT, RUFFNUT, TUFFNUT,  
AND (SIGH) ASTRID

Fishlegs' eyes went as wide as saucers. Very hesitantly, he took a step toward Hiccup, then another. "Is that really you?" he whispered. He reached out a shaking hand.

Hiccup pulled back a few inches and wrote quickly.

USE YOUR LEFT HAND

"Uhh… I know _you're_ left-handed, Hiccup, but… is this some weird dragon bonding ritual?"

JUST PAT MY NOSE WITH  
YOUR LEFT HAND

"You won't bite me?"

NOT EVEN A LITTLE

"Is this going to turn me into a Night Fury too?"

I'M 97% SURE IT WON'T

"It really _is_ you. Oh, my gosh… I'm going to touch a dragon and live! Even Astrid never did that!" He switched hands and reached out with his left hand until his palm rested on Hiccup's nose. The dragon blinked and made eye contact. Fishlegs looked almost ecstatic. "This is amazing! Nobody ever even _saw_ a Night Fury before!" Then he looked sober. "What happened to you?"

I DON'T KNOW, AND I WASN'T  
EXPECTING IT, BUT THIS IS  
WHAT I AM NOW.  
TELL MY DAD I'LL BE OKAY

"I _really_ don't think he'll call it 'okay' if I tell him you turned into a dragon."

Hiccup paused. There was a question he had to ask, even though he feared he might not like the answer.

IS MY DAD WORRIED ABOUT ME?

"He's getting nervous, yeah. He doesn't have any people to spare, but whenever he can, he sends out search parties. He asked for volunteers, but…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Hiccup could guess the rest.

"Do I really have to tell him about you?" Fishlegs went on. "Anything I say will make things worse, and he'll want to know where I got my facts, and… that could get really uncomfortable." Hiccup had to admit he was right; he knew how intense his father could be when he wanted to know something. He hated to think his dad would worry about him, but what could he possibly say that would ease his mind?

He was distracted by a snort from the shadows. Fishlegs heard it, too, and jumped away. "What was that?" he asked fearfully.

THAT'S MYRKRID.  
SHE'S

…and he stopped. What should he call her? Teacher? Girl friend? Future mate?

SHE'S MY FRIEND.  
CAN YOU DO ONE MORE THING?  
HOP ON ONE LEG THREE TIMES

That was the other sign that he and Myrkrid had agreed on to show that he could communicate with a Viking. Fishlegs gave him a very puzzled look.

"Hiccup, you were always a little different, but… _what?_"

PLEASE

"I'm not so good at hopping. Could we play Twenty Questions or something instead?"

THIS IS IMPORTANT.  
YOU'RE BEING WATCHED.  
PLEASE DO THIS

"Okay," Fishlegs said doubtfully. He hopped three times, and fell over on the last hop. Hiccup lunged, caught him on his nose, and lifted him back onto his feet.

"Thanks, Hiccup," he said, a bit shaken. "Can I ask you something? I never saw a Night Fury before, and I don't know if I'll ever see one again. Could I kind of, you know, see what you look like?"

Hiccup turned sideways, spread his wings for a few seconds, and fanned his tail fins as Fishlegs stared rapturously. Hiccup suddenly realized that, for the first time in his life, he was showing off for an appreciative audience. No more talking fishbone! He had become something beautiful.

"Wow! You're awesome!" Fishlegs blurted out. "After what I've seen tonight, I'm going to be walking around smiling for a week! Uhh… am I going to see you again?"

I DON'T KNOW.  
IF I CONTACT YOU AGAIN, I MAY  
USE MY NEW NAME, DIMMADREKI

"Shadow Dragon? How did you get so cool, Hiccup? Actually, I had one more question. If the dragons come again… I don't want to hurt your feelings, but, uhh…"

IF A NIGHT FURY RAIDS BERK,  
IT WON'T BE ME

"Thanks. I'm kind of glad to know that." He suddenly realized it was getting very dark. "My lamp is almost out of oil. I guess I need to go. I don't know what all this was about, but… thank you, Hiccup. I mean Dimmadreki."

YOU'RE WELCOME, AND THANK YOU

Hiccup watched him go. _There goes my last contact with humanity, probably,_ he thought. _At least he didn't try to kill me. It'll give me something positive to remember the human race by_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 8

As soon as Fishlegs and his dim lantern were out of sight, Myrkrid stepped out of her hiding place. She looked very shaken.

"Now do you believe me?" he asked.

She stopped a few feet away from him. "You really used to be human," she quavered. "You were telling me the truth the whole time. You've got a human mind in there. No wonder you were afraid of me! You must think I'm repulsive! And I wanted you to…"

"Myrkrid, it's okay! Believe me, I understand. Your idea made more sense than the truth; it doesn't bother me that you had a hard time believing me. I still think you're a beautiful dragon."

"You're just saying that so you don't hurt my feelings."

"No, I mean it! I saw the way Fishlegs was looking at me, and I realized – I've turned into something beautiful. And if I'm beautiful, then you are, too."

She hung her head. "You couldn't possibly want to mate with me. I'm surprised you can stand to be within ten feet of me."

He nudged her with his nose. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm already feeling more like a dragon than a human, in some ways. As it is, you're probably the closest friend I've ever had."

"All those awful things you said about your past… they were all true?"

" 'Fraid so."

"And you tried to kill dragons, and always failed?"

"Always failed, just like I said. At the time, it stank, but now I'm glad about that."

"But wait a minute," she stammered. "If you've never been a dragon before, then how did you learn to fly so fast?"

"It's like I said – it just makes sense, once I start to do it," he answered. "I probably have some dragon reflexes inside me now, and that has to help. Mostly, I guess I really want to fly. I always did"

"Do all Vikings want to fly?" she wondered.

"No, just the ones with imagination. There aren't many of those." He paused. "Now that you know I'm a human on the inside, does that change anything for you?"

She thought for a moment. "No," she decided. "I'm so used to thinking of you as a slightly weird dragon, it doesn't change anything now that I know you're more than just slightly weird. I was willing to take you as you are, imperfections and all, and I still am."

_That's what love sounds like,_ he realized with a start. He was even more startled to realize that his best chance to escape the terms of her deal hadn't panned out, and it didn't upset him. He stood next to her and hesitantly wrapped a wing around her. She leaned on him and closed her eyes.

"You're not like any male I've ever met before," she said quietly, "and I'm glad about that."

They were interrupted by a scraping sound from inside the training ring. A hoarse voice called, "Are there dragons out there?"

"Yes, we're Night Furies," Myrkrid answered. "You sound like a Gronckle."

"Yes," the voice answered. "There are five of us being held in here. Is there any way you can get us out?"

"Is there a way to get dragons out of that hole?" she demanded of Hiccup.

"Yes, the main gate is over there. But Gobber keeps it locked so kids don't get in and let the dragons out by accident."

"Whatever a gobber is, it's going to have to move. Come on, Dimmadreki! Let's give you a practical test of what you've learned." She sprang into the air, with Hiccup close behind her, marveling at how quickly she shifted gears mentally. They climbed fast.

"Okay, I see your main gate," she said as she looked down. "I've showed you how to dive, and you know how to make a firebolt. Now combine the two; dive on that gate and blow it to pieces. I'll be right behind you, so if you miss, I've got you covered. Show me what you've got."

As they climbed, he glanced down at the gate to the training ring. He knew he could take it out. But should he? It was a part of his village! He'd just promised Fishlegs that he wouldn't raid Berk!

_I'm not raiding Berk,_ he decided. _No Vikings are going to get hurt, or go hungry, or lose their homes. I'm just arranging a jailbreak for some intelligent beings who are in jail for the crime of being the wrong species. I won't lose any sleep at night over that. I won't lose any sleep in the daytime, either._

He lined up his target, folded his wings, and dove. The rush of air past his face was exhilarating. He sparked a firebolt and let the rushing wind fan it to full strength. _What do you mean, 'if I miss?'_ he thought indignantly. _I'm a Night Fury. I __never__ miss!_ He fired and pulled up. A moment later, most of the iron-reinforced portcullis vanished in a brilliant purple fireball. He smiled. If Myrkrid was planning to take a follow-up shot, she had no target left to shoot at.

He landed next to her in front of the gateway. The wooden edges of the portcullis were smoldering. "I have to admit, I wasn't sure what you were going to do," she said. "I mean, you're a human, and this is your village; I didn't know if you…"

"I am a human _and_ a dragon," he corrected her. "I won't harm anyone in this village. But _this_… this is a cage for intelligent creatures who aren't so different from you. Or me. It made me happy to blast it."

"You sure did a good job of it," she nodded. "Those doors on the other side look pretty solid, though. I'm not sure we have enough firepower to take them out without another diving attack, and the roof chains will get in our way."

"Not a problem," he said. "There are advantages to having a human mind in a dragon body. You guard the door and scare away any Vikings who come near. I'll set the dragons free." He stepped through the gaping hole in the portcullis and padded inside, stepping over the chunks of smoking debris that his firebolt had scattered across the floor.

He'd always dreamed of entering this ring, watching dragons emerge from their holding pens, and learning how to fight them. Now, he was finally here, he was about to release all the dragons, and when he did, they wouldn't try to fight him; they might even thank him. He didn't even bother thinking, "Life is weird." He was getting used to that.

"Here's how it's done," he called, and pushed the lever next to the leftmost door with his paw. The doors flew open and a Gronckle burst out, wild-eyed. She hovered for a moment and looked all around. "No humans! Am I really free? Thank you, umm…"

"Dimmadreki," he answered. "That's Myrkrid outside. We're setting all of you free tonight."

"Thank you! At last I can go!" The bulky dragon buzzed out the doorway, paused to thank Myrkrid, and flew away into the darkness. Hiccup reached for the next lever, but his lady-friend called, "Wait!"

He walked back to the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"I got a good look at that dragon as she flew by," she answered. "She's enslaved. All of these dragons are probably enslaved. If we turn them loose, they'll have no choice but to go back to serving the Monster. Do we want to do that?"

"Look at size of that holding cell!" he burst out. "We can't leave these dragons in those tiny pens, even if they're bound for certain death when they leave. No intelligent creature can live like that!" Without another word, he turned back and opened the next cell. This one was occupied by a tiny Terrible Terror, which chirped its thanks to him and shot straight up through the roof chains to freedom.

"That one wasn't enslaved, at least," Myrkrid called. "The Monsters don't bother with the little ones."

The third cell contained a raging-mad Monstrous Nightmare. It came out flaming and bellowing, but quickly settled down when it saw no human adversaries.

"A Night Fury?" he asked. "Is that who turned me loose?"

"Two Night Furies," Hiccup corrected him. "You're free. Go find something free to do!"

"I can't," the Nightmare said sadly. "I've been away from my nest for far too long. Thank you for thinking of me, though." He bounded up the ramp, spread his wings, and disappeared into the night.

"Dimmadreki, make it fast!" Myrkrid called. "I think some Vikings saw the explosion you made. There are a bunch of men with torches headed this way."

"Hold them off – I'm almost done!" he called back. He pulled the fourth lever, and then the fifth one without waiting. A Hideous Zippleback and a Deadly Nadder burst out of their pens, thanked the black dragons profusely, and flew away in the same direction as the first ones. Hiccup was the last dragon out of the training ring; he and Myrkrid bounded into the sky and returned to their cove, unseen by any of the Vikings.

"You're awfully quiet," she commented when they landed.

"I was thinking about those dragons we just freed," he answered. "I never thought of dragons as being like people before. They were just thieves, killers, and targets. Now I'm seeing how wrong I was... how wrong every Viking has been... but what bothers me the most is that four of those dragons are still just as imprisoned as they were before we opened their cell doors."

"Every dragon hates the Monsters and what they do," she replied, "but there's nothing we can do about them except keep our distance."

"I don't think I can accept that," he shot back. "Berk did away with slavery three generations ago. I've never met a person who was forced to belong to another person; just the idea makes me sick. Now I'm a dragon, I find out that dragons are enslaving other dragons, and I'm supposed to just pretend it isn't happening? I can't do that."

"Dimmadreki, you're learning to fly, learning to take care of yourself, and learning how to become a totally different species. Isn't that enough for you? Do you have to save the world, too?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Or at least the piece of it that I live in. You're a Night Fury; doesn't it burn you up inside to see dragons in that condition?"

"It does," she said without hesitation, "especially because I lost a mate that way. I _will not _lose another one! Dimmadreki, you can't understand this because you're a male, but my mission in life is to preserve my species and keep it from dying out. My need to lay eggs and raise young dragons takes priority over anything else I could ever do. I can't throw my life away on an idealistic crusade, no matter how right it might be. There are too many generations of Night Furies yet unhatched who are depending on me to live and reproduce." She took a deep breath. "And if you're going to be my mate, then that will apply to you, too."

She was calling him to make a choice – either follow her and live her way, or follow his own sense of honor and break his promise to her.

"I'm not making any irrevocable decisions tonight," he finally replied.

"You'll have to make a decision soon," she replied softly.

"I know," he said. "Believe me, I know."


	9. Chapter 9

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 9

Astrid had the morning off. Her chores were done, there were no dragon-training exercises scheduled for this morning, and she had some time to herself. Usually, that meant axe practice in the woods, but today, she decided to indulge herself a little.

She was well on her way to winning in dragon-training. She didn't face any serious opposition; Snotlout was too cocky to learn from his mistakes, the twins kept getting lucky breaks and throwing them away with stupid arguments, and Fishlegs couldn't get out of his own way. She'd learned the habits of each of the common dragon types, and could take them down consistently. Thoughts of the Monstrous Nightmare made her a little nervous, but if she'd mastered the other types, she could handle that one, too.

She decided to wander down by the training ring. She stood on the stage, closed her eyes, and imagined Chief Stoick standing beside her, introducing her to the village as their newest champion. Her father and mother would be right up front, bursting with pride. Everyone else in town would be cheering and shouting her name. Snotlout would be off to the side, hanging his head in defeat, knowing that he'd never be considered good enough for her again. It would be the crowning moment of her life! She smiled and glanced down at where she thought he'd be standing...

...and saw that the stone platform below her was covered in runes, written large with some kind of white powdery substance.

She read them. Apparently, they formed half of a conversation. There was no way to know what the other person or people had said. But that wasn't necessary. The runes told their own story, and that story was unbelievable.

MAGIC IS AT WORK HERE  
I AM HICCUP

NO HARD FEELINGS. OUR FRIENDS ARE  
SNOTLOUT, RUFFNUT, TUFFNUT,  
AND (SIGH) ASTRID

(He must have been talking to Fishlegs. What was that "sigh" about? She didn't want to know.)

IS MY DAD WORRIED ABOUT ME?

IF I CONTACT YOU AGAIN, I MAY  
USE MY NEW NAME, DIMMADREKI

IF A NIGHT FURY RAIDS BERK,  
IT WON'T BE ME

Either someone with a sick sense of humor was playing some kind of horrible prank, or she'd discovered something that was far more important than winning at dragon training.

Dragon training... _what had happened to the training ring?_ The gate was a blackened ruin, and all the cell doors were wide open! As she watched, Gobber stepped out of one of the empty cells, rested his hands (okay, his hand) on his hips, sighed, and shook his head sadly. All the training dragons were gone; someone or something had set them free. Dragon training might be permanently over.

The other Vikings would all be fixated on the damage to the ring. She might be the only one who noticed the runes. What should she do with this information?

Her father would know. She left the ring at a run. Fifteen minutes later, Gunnarr Hofferson was knocking at Stoick's door. Fifteen minutes after that, Stoick was knocking at the door of the Ingerman house. Fifteen minutes after _that,_ the chief excused himself from all town business and called a private meeting in his home.

Sitting around the fire were Stoick, Gobber, Spitelout with his son Snotlout, Astrid with her parents Gunnarr and Edda, Fishlegs with his father Finnthorn, and the Thorston twins with their mother Butternut.

The chief began by making sure that the runes were genuine. Had someone who knew Hiccup written them? Snotlout insisted that they weren't his, and showed them a sample of his almost unreadable handwriting to prove it. Ruffnut and Tuffnut both said they wished they'd thought of it, but denied responsibility, and their mother vouched for the fact that they'd been home all night. The three teens were excused from the rest of the meeting, along with Butternut. They all left eagerly; it looked like it was going to get intense and emotional, and they wanted no part of that. Astrid also denied writing the runes, and her character spoke for itself. No one questioned her. She was permitted to stay at the meeting because she was the one who had found the runes.

Stoick gestured at Fishlegs next. "The runes suggest that whoever wrote them was talking to you. Tell us what happened last night, young man."

Fishlegs was so nervous, his teeth were chattering. He tried to talk, but nothing came out. Stoick's face darkened. "You owe it to the village to tell us the truth."

"I- I- I'm t-t-trying, sir, b-b-but I..."

The chief leaped to his feet, eyes blazing. "WOULD YOU RELAX?" he bellowed. "JUST TALK TO US, THAT'S ALL! THERE'S NO PRESSURE!"

"Stoick, please," Edda cautioned him. "This isn't helping." Once he sat down, she turned to Fishlegs. "Just take a deep breath, and start at the beginning."

Fishlegs did as he was told, starting with the runes he'd found in front of his house yesterday morning, and ending with him returning to his house in the dark because his lamp had run out of oil. "And that's the whole story, sir," he concluded, trying not to cry.

For a few seconds, there was silence. Finally, Gunnarr spoke. "We've all seen the runes, and his story lines up with them almost word for word. Either he wrote the runes himself, or his story is true."

"Can you prove that you didn't write them, young man?" Spitelout demanded.

Fishlegs looked stricken. "How could I prove that?" he asked.

"My son wouldn't do that," Finnthorn protested. "There isn't a cruel bone in his body."

"Doesn't he have an over-active imagination?" Spitelout pressed him. "Especially where dragons are concerned?" Everyone knew the answer to that question – Fishlegs' obsession with dragon lore was a running joke in the village.

"He would _never_ think that a stunt like this would be a good idea, especially when it involves the chief's only son!" Astrid shot back. "I've known him all my life. That's not the Fishlegs I know." Finnthorn nodded.

"Your loyalty is touching," Spitelout replied snidely, "but we have to face the facts. There are two possibilities. One, that Fishlegs wrote those runes himself as some kind of prank. Two, that the chief's missing son has been turned into a Night Fury who let Fishlegs pat him on the nose. Which one is more likely to be true?"

Edda broke the uncomfortable silence. "We can settle this easily. We'll go down to the ring, and we'll watch Fishlegs write some runes with chalk. We'll compare his writing to last night's writing, and see if they were written by the same person." They looked to Stoick for a decision.

"I don't have the heart for this," he sighed. "Spitelout, Gunnarr, you go with the boy and check his handwriting against those runes. Come back and tell me what you learn." The two men and the boy left; Fishlegs acted as though he was being led to the gallows. They returned about twenty minutes later, to a room full of people who hadn't spoken or moved since they left.

"The writing is similar, but not identical," Spitelout announced. "He could have faked it."

"I have to say the evidence is inconclusive," Gunnarr added. "There are similarities in the runes, but there are also differences. For one thing, I think whoever wrote the runes by the training ring is left-handed." Everyone knew that Hiccup was left-handed. Again, they looked to Stoick.

"It sounds like nothing can be legally proven," he said sadly.

"There's another issue that we have to consider, and that's the destroyed dragon-training ring." Spitelout sounded like he was warming to his task. "The door was blasted, almost certainly by a Night Fury, but there are no fresh burn marks or claw marks on the cell doors. The dragons were freed by someone who knew how to work the release handles, and who wasn't afraid that a Night Fury was nearby. Could that have been you, Fishlegs?"

Fishlegs was aghast. "No! I'd never do something like that!"

"Can you prove it?" Spitelout pounced on him eagerly.

"Common sense proves it, ye fool!" Gobber cut in. "Yer accusin' the lad of openin' all the cages an' lettin' the dragons out, all by 'imself, without a weapon or a shield in his hand? Only a suicidal idiot with haggis fer brains would try a stunt like that. Neither you nor I would even _dream_ o' such a foolhardy trick, an' we're experienced dragon-fighters!"

"Why would I even _want_ to do a thing like that?" Fishlegs added.

The second-in-command looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe you wanted to put an end to dragon training, so you won't lose?"

Astrid had to respond to that. "With respect, that's nonsense. Fishlegs tries as hard to win as anyone. He's never thrown a fit, or made any threats, or done anything at all to suggest he'd ever do a thing like that."

"That's not good enough," Spitelout retorted.

"It's good enough for me," Finnthorn shot back. "My son is not a liar, and he'd never deliberately destroy town property."

Spitelout glanced at him scornfully. "So what are we supposed to believe? Did the Night Furies do it all by themselves?"

No one answered.

Spitelout exclaimed, "Stoick, you need to intervene here! This young man is looking guiltier by the moment!"

Stoick sighed. "Looking guilty doesn't mean he _is_ guilty. I can't punish someone without proof! There's no solid evidence, there weren't any witnesses, and he hasn't confessed, so my hands are tied." Then his eyes narrowed as he glared at Fishlegs. "You have never caused this village any trouble before, young man, and that's the _only_ reason I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. But if I find out that you really _were_ behind this, I will make you regret the day you were born!"

"I believe you, sir," Fishlegs answered, wide-eyed.

The chief shook his head. "Whoever pulled this stunt might be the unholy offspring of Loki and Hel itself, but we can't prove who he is. There's nothing more to say. This meeting is over." They left the chief to his mourning.

Later that morning, a rain squall swept across the town. It washed away all evidence of the runes. In mid-afternoon, Astrid took her axe down to the ring for another dragon-training session. Gobber had captured a Terrible Terror on short notice, patched the gate, and set up the tall obstacles in a labyrinth again.

"Gather 'round, ye four," Gobber announced. "I've got bad news, an' I've got good news. Th' bad news is, Fishlegs won't be joinin' us fer trainin' anymore. Th' good news is, I saved fifteen percent on me longship insurance!"

"What happened to Fishlegs?" Astrid asked.

"He's been apprenticed to one o' the cooks in th' Mead Hall," Gobber explained. "Chief's orders. He says we don't 'ave enough bread-makin' Vikings. Now, spread out an' get ready fer today's challenge!"

Snotlout had a rare moment of competence and sneaked up behind the Terrible Terror after a few minutes. Astrid tripped him just as he was about to pulp the thing with his mace. She didn't know why she did it; she'd never had compassion on a dragon before. She blocked the lizard's fire-shot with her shield, whacked the little creature with the shield to knock it senseless, and the training session was over. It might be the last session they'd have in quite a while.

She used the rest of the afternoon to visit Fishlegs in the Mead Hall kitchen. He was busily rolling out dough on a cutting board, to be baked into loaves for tomorrow's lunch.

"I feel bad about this happening to you,"she began. "If I'd known where it would lead, I wouldn't have said anything about those stupid runes."

"It's not so bad," he replied. "I wasn't much of a dragon-fighter anyway. Anyway, you shouldn't feel bad; you didn't do anything wrong."

"Neither did you!" she exclaimed. Then she lowered her voice, making sure none of the other Mead Hall workers were nearby. "Did you really see a Night Fury?"

"Yes, and I patted him on the nose," he replied earnestly but quietly.

"Did it look scary?"

He thought before answering. "I couldn't really see him very well in the dark. What I _could_ see, looked awesome. He didn't _act_ scary."

"Do you think it was... Hiccup... somehow?"

"I'm convinced," he nodded, "but I can't convince anybody else."

She saw a cook looking in their direction, so she raised her voice to normal. "There's no reason for you to be punished, even if it isn't official punishment. I'm going to find a way to clear your name. It's the least I can do, after I got you in trouble."

"How?" he wondered. "The only way to clear me is to find a witness to speak for me, and there weren't any witnesses except Hiccup and the other dragon."

"Then we're going to find Hiccup," she decided, "and _he_ is going to clear your name."

Fishlegs looked puzzled. "How are we going to find him? We don't even know where he lives anymore. He could be anywhere within a hundred miles of here."

"He has to be somewhere on Berk," she replied. "He's lived here all his life. He wouldn't leave without a good reason."

"How about 'his father would kill him if he saw him'? Is that a good reason?" Fishlegs was openly dubious. "If you _do_ find him, how are you going to persuade him to walk into a village full of dragon killers, just to testify for me?"

"He always had a strong sense of right and wrong," she answered. "If he can get you out of trouble, he'll find some clever way to do it. The only question is, will he mess it up?

Fishlegs shook his head. "The only question is, will _you_ kill him when _you_ see him? You're the red-hot dragon-fighter; a Night Fury head would be your ultimate trophy."

"You're right, it _would_ be, but I wouldn't kill Hiccup!" she exclaimed, mystified. "Why would you say a thing like that?"

"Well, you might confuse him with some other dragon," Fishlegs said defensively.

Now _she_ shook her head. "Is there another Night Fury I might confuse him with? I mean, how many Night Furies are we dealing with here?"

"At least two," Fishlegs replied. "He said he had a friend, and I never saw that friend, so I think she was a Night Fury, too."

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe... maybe there are enough Night Furies to clear your name and bring me some glory at the same time."

**o**

"Please tell me the chief is _finally_ getting worried about his missing son." Alvin was actually getting anxious. He'd invested a lot in this plan; when was Stoick going to start cooperating?

"I'm not sure if 'worried' is the right word," Savage replied nervously, "but he's definitely not himself. Our informant tells me someone wrote some runes on the ground that said the chief's boy got turned into a dragon, and the chief has punished the boy he thinks is responsible, even though he can't prove anything. That's unusual for him."

"Well, it's about time!" Alvin burst out. "I was starting to think the man had a heart of stone! As long as he's not rowing with all his oars, that's good enough for me. Notify the warriors and the ship's crews. We sail for Berk tomorrow night! Our revenge begins at last!"

Turned into a dragon! The man must be out of his mind to take a story like that seriously, or even half-seriously! But then he remembered – his mother never told him exactly _how_ she was going to make the chief's boy disappear. Had she actually turned him into a dragon? If she had, it would have been the crown jewel in her career as a witch. Vikings kill dragons! Maybe Stoick had already killed his own son, and didn't even know it! He grinned malevolently. Perhaps the Norns, the deciders of destiny, were finally on his side. He'd strike before they changed their minds.


	10. Chapter 10

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 10

"There are no signs of Night Furies anywhere!" Fishlegs wasn't happy. "We're wasting my day off!"

"Berk is a big island," Astrid replied, "and we just started searching today. Dragons are big animals; they can't hide forever. If we don't give up, we'll find him eventually."

Astrid was in full battle gear, with her axe sharpened to a deadly edge. Fishlegs carried a shield but no weapon. They'd spent the day tramping through the woods, looking for signs of a dragon that no one had ever seen (except for Fishlegs, and that was in the dark, so it wasn't much help). Astrid remained upbeat, even though they saw absolutely nothing that even the most cock-eyed optimist could interpret as a sign of a dragon.

"Astrid, it's really not that big a deal," he protested. "I mean, I wasn't going to win in dragon training anyway, right? I'm doing okay with the baking, and... well, look at me. You can tell I like to eat. Working in the kitchen all day might be my perfect career! Maybe it's for the best."

"It's the principle of the thing, Fishlegs," she replied. "You're under suspicion when you did nothing wrong, and I can't stand that. We'll find Hiccup, don't you worry, and we'll clear your name. You can come back to dragon training if you want to, or you can go on kneading dough, but it will be _your_ decision to make."

"I don't know," he answered. "It sounds like _you're_ making all my decisions now."

"Well, somebody's got to do it! You're too easy-going." They kept walking.

"Do you think Hiccup is happy being a dragon?" he suddenly asked.

She considered that for a few seconds. "Who knows?" she finally said. "Nobody ever understood the way Hiccup thought. He might be happy beyond words, or he might be on the edge of suicide, or he might just be stumbling around, making a mess of things like he always did. I can't guess. Hey, look at this!" She stooped and picked up something small and round. "Could this be a dragon scale?"

Fishlegs examined it for a moment. "It could be, but it isn't. It's just a flat rock."

"Well, the flat rocks are starting to look like dragon scales, so we must be getting closer," she decided. "If we don't find them today, we're sure to find them on your next day off. Keep looking."

**o**

That evening, Hiccup and Myrkrid awoke together. "Do you think you're ready to catch your own breakfast tonight?" she asked brightly.

"Will I starve if I mess it up?" he asked nervously.

"Of course not," she chuckled. "On second thought, maybe I _should_ let you go hungry if you can't catch your own fish. That will motivate you!"

"Actually, I'm up for the challenge," he decided. They took wing and flew out to sea, looking for signs of fish in the water. It took about half an hour before Hiccup thought he saw something.

"Okay, drop your fire in the water and see if you're right," she suggested. He climbed higher, folded his wings, and dove. He started a firebolt on the way down, and released it at about two hundred feet, just before he pulled out. His shot penetrated the water about eight feet deep before it burst, throwing spray high into the air. He circled the area, with Myrkrid right next to him, watching for stunned fish to float to the surface.

After half a minute, she said, "It looks like you guessed wrong."

"Wait for it," he replied. "This was a deep-running school." About ten seconds later, the first bream floated to the surface, followed by others. "Breakfast is served," he smiled. "Ladies first?"

"That's not a dragon-like attitude, but thank you," she replied, and swooped down along the trough of a wave. When she caught up with her prey, she reached out a forepaw and scooped the fish out of the water. She held it with both paws until she gained some height; then she flipped it into the air, caught it in her teeth, and swallowed it.

"Your turn," she called, but he was already closing in on his own fish. This one wasn't completely stunned; it wriggled when he scooped it, and he had to juggle it a bit before he got it under control. She was already lining up on her second helping by the time he got it down. It was delicious, and especially tasty because he'd caught it himself. He checked to see where she was, so he wouldn't hit her in mid-air when he went for another fish.

He watched in horror as an unusually tall wave caught the tip of her wing and spun her into the water.

All her usual self-confidence vanished; she was thrashing the sea in a panic. He quickly closed in and circled her tightly. "Hang on – I'll get you out of there!" he shouted.

She flapped frantically, but couldn't generate enough lift; her wings hit the water long before they could complete a downstroke. "It can't be done!" she cried back. "Other dragons have –" She stopped to cough when a wave broke across her face. "They've tried it, but no one can pull up hard enough. I'll just drag you down, too." She held her breath as a wave broke right across her head. "Dimmadreki, I'm so glad I got to know you, but I'm afraid I'm done. The sharks will be here soon, even if I don't drown first."

"No!" he shouted. "I can't accept that!" After a moment's desperate thought, he exclaimed, "Maybe pulling up isn't the answer. If lift doesn't help, we'll try airspeed. Myrkrid, I'm going to pass right in front of you. Retract your teeth and grab my tail, and don't try to fly up. Fly forward."

"That won't get me out of the water!" she screamed.

"It will let me pull you without getting dragged down," he called back. "Once we've got some speed built up, I'll pull you right across a wave, and that should catapult you into the air. Here I come!" He flew as close to the water as he dared, lowered his tail, and braced himself.

He nearly fell out of the sky when she clamped down on his tail, and the strength of her bite hurt even without teeth, but he kept flapping for all he was worth. He felt the drag lessen as she began flapping as well, and they began moving forward. They weren't going fast enough for him to stay in the air… and then they were. It was working! They were slowly speeding up. He nearly caught a wingtip on the waves several times, but he kept flapping. He saw a good-sized wave headed their way. "Get ready," he called. As the wave passed beneath him, he swerved hard toward it. "Up! Now!" He felt her full weight on his tail as she splashed clear of the water. She nearly pulled him back down. And then she let go. He glanced back, fearful that she'd given up and fallen back in the sea. But she was in the air just behind him, water streaming off of her, flapping for her life. She was up. They'd done it.

For nearly a minute, she said nothing; she was gasping for breath. At last, she said, "Dimmadreki, I thought I was dead. I should have been dead. I owe you my life."

"I guess that makes us even," he replied quietly.

"Do you understand what you just did?" she continued. "I've never heard of a Night Fury surviving an ocean downing. Never! I really thought I was going to die." After a second, she added, "That would have been your perfect chance to get out of mating with me."

"Myrkrid, how could you think…?" He shook his head. "Are you suggesting I could have left you to drown? Do you really think I could _do_ that?"

"If I was in your paws, I think I'd do anything to escape," she said quietly.

He looked across at her. "You're not someone I want to escape from anymore. You're not just a flight teacher or a fish provider. I'm thinking with a dragon's brain and looking at you with dragon's eyes, and that's been changing things for me. You're a genuine friend... and somehow, I don't know how, but maybe you've become even more than just a friend."

She didn't answer. She just pointed her nose at the sky and raced straight up. He followed her easily, unsure what tonight's lesson would be about. She kept glancing back at him; after a few seconds, he overtook her so she could watch him without looking back. They were getting close to the clouds, and it didn't look like she meant to slow down. He'd already been through the clouds once or twice, so he knew what to expect, but he was still mystified at her intentions.

Then they were in the clouds, still headed straight up. They burst into the clear after about fifteen seconds, up in the moonlit places where only Night Furies go. It was a beautiful starry night. A strange exhilaration burst over him. He began doing a long series of vertical barrel-rolls around her. After a moment, she began slowly spinning so she was always facing toward him. They leveled off after climbing some more; still they continued their unscripted aerial dance. She gazed up at him as he rolled above her, with an expression on her face that he'd never seen before… and he suddenly knew what tonight's lesson was about.

The idea didn't fill him with horror, like he'd thought it would. The dragon side of him was responding to her aerial moves, and the Hiccup side of him was drawn to her heart. Yes, she could be a little harsh now and then, but she really cared about him. He really cared about her, too.

A thought flashed through one part of his brain. _Hiccup, have you forgotten one small detail? She's a reptile._

_So am I,_ another part of his brain replied. _I'm getting used to that, one step at a time. This is just one more step in the process._

_It's not a small step,_ said the first part. _It's a freakin' __hu__g__e__ step! You're seriously going to get intimate with a __lizard__?_

_She's a very __nice__ lizard,_ said the other part. _She treats me better than most humans I've known. She's pretty, once you get used to seeing her through dragon's eyes. She's sensible, smart, brave, honest, willing to admit when she's wrong… and she likes me. She's everything I ever wanted in a woman, except she isn't, technically, a woman. I can live with that._

The first part didn't give up. _Hiccup, this isn't a quick roll in the hay with some half-drunk Viking wench, the kind that Snotlout always brags about but everyone knows he's lying. She wants to be the mother of your children! If you do this, then forget about that "just one egg" stuff – it's a permanent commitment. You're about to get __married__ up here!_

_I guess that's supposed to scare me because men are afraid of commitment,_ the other part answered. _But I was never much of a man anyway, and now I'm not a man at all. I've always wanted to belong to someone; I've always wanted to find someone who wanted to belong to me. I'm old enough for marriage, both by Viking standards and by dragon standards. I'm ready. I want to do this._

The first part was astonished. _Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoick the Vast, heir to the chieftainship of Berk, you're going to __marr__y a __dra__g__on__?_ _Are you __serious__?_

He glanced down and saw her gazing up at him expectantly. _Yes,_ he decided, and that was the end of the mental conversation. He let himself fall straight towards her. She rolled upside-down, they wrapped their wings around each other, and…

…and the next thing he knew, they had fallen nearly two miles together, and the sea was getting close. They broke away from each other and spread their wings to stop their plunge. As soon as they could, though, they rejoined each other in close formation. He felt completely drained, in a good way. All he wanted to do was fly home to their cove, lie down next to the beautiful dragon who was flying next to him, and fall asleep with her. He glanced to his right; she was smiling at him.

"Now _that_ was a mating flight," she whispered contentedly. "I wasn't sure if you were ready; I'm glad you were. You've kept the first part of your promise."

"This had nothing to do with promises," he murmured back. "This was all about you and me."

"But now I know you'll keep the rest of your promise," she replied. "Whoever turned you into a Night Fury, I ought to thank them."

"Me, too," Dimmadreki whispered after a moment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 11

Dimmadreki and Myrkrid glided easily on the evening breeze. It was the night after their mating flight. There was nothing on their agenda, as far as teaching and learning went. They'd found their daily meal quickly, stuffed themselves with fish, and set out on a long, relaxing flight to nowhere in particular. Dimmadreki loved flying for its own sake, much as his mate had predicted, and she was content just being with him.

"Can you tell me something?" he asked. "Every now and then, you'll say something like, 'Oh, for Tannin's sake!' Who's Tannin?"

"Tannin was the great ancestral dragon, the mother of us all," she began. "None of us knows exactly where she came from. It's agreed that whoever made the sky and the earth made Tannin as well, but if we dragons ever knew who that was, we've long since forgotten. Whoever he was, he sent her down from the sky at the beginning, to fill the earth with dragons. She was huge, wise, and very beautiful. They say she was purest white in color, but when she stood in the sun, all the colors of the rainbow reflected off her scales.

"When she got to the earth, she saw that there was another intelligent race already there – the humans. She approached them and offered them her friendship. The men were frightened at her size and her power, so they said, 'No, we can't be friends with you. You'll frighten our animals and our children. You'll eat all the food that we need for ourselves. Please stay away from us.'

"Tannin was distressed because she knew, if the two races remained separate, it was just a matter of time before they misunderstood each other. War would surely be the result. But the men remained afraid, so she flew far into the wilderness, into places where men would never go. There, she laid a clutch of eggs.

"That clutch hatched into all the common types of dragons – the Nadders, the Gronckles, the Fireworms, the Terrors, and all the others. The hatchlings were all female and already gravid, so they could begin to fill the earth with their offspring. Tannin taught them what they needed to know, told them to be kind to humans but to stay away unless the humans invited them, and sent them out, all over the world. She saw that her children were beautiful and clever, so she laid another clutch.

"That second clutch hatched into all the uncommon kinds of dragons – the Timberjacks, the Scauldrons, the Changewings, the Smokebreaths, and the rest. They, too, were all female and all ready to lay eggs. Tannin taught them the same things as the others, including the warning about humans, and sent them out. She saw that her second clutch was even more wonderful than the first, so she laid one more.

"The third clutch contained just three eggs. One hatched into the first Night Fury, one became the first Bewilderbeast, and the third hatched into the first Monster. She was amazed at the Night Fury, which was the most intelligent and powerful of all her young, and which was beautiful even though it was her opposite in color. The Bewilderbeast was also very intelligent, but it had a power to enslave other dragons that made her nervous. Its nature was kindly, though, so she did not worry. But she was terrified at the Monster, which had the same power as the Bewilderbeast, and a selfish streak that suggested that she and her offspring would certainly use their influence against other dragons. She feared that, if she laid any more eggs, some would be even more wonderful than the Night Fury, but some would be much worse than the Monster. So she ended her work.

"She taught her last three children what they needed to know, and she had a special warning for the first Monster dragon. She told it, 'Do not mistreat your brothers and your sisters. Someday, a hero will arise who is a dragon and not a dragon, and if you have enslaved my other children, that hero will become your enemy, and he will destroy you.' When she had finished her teaching, she flew back into the sky, never to return. It's said that, if you look into the northern sky when you're above the clouds, you can see a pattern of stars that shows where she went. Others say it just looks like a human's long-handled drinking cup." She smiled. "We dragons are a practical bunch; we don't have many legends. That's one of the very few that will be worth passing on to our children."

Dimmadreki was trying not to think about his own children yet, even though he'd already started an egg in her. "Do the dragons worship Tannin, or pray to her?" he asked.

"No, not at all. She's not a supernatural being; we see her as more of a mythic semi-historical figure. There aren't any gods or goddesses who watch out for dragons, like the humans believe in. We have to look out for ourselves."

"Speaking of looking out, what's that down there?" he asked. "Those look like ships."

"They probably are," she replied after a quick glance. "Let the humans do their fishing. There are plenty of fish in the sea, so if they don't bother us, we won't bother them."

"Fishing boats don't sail in a tight formation like that," he noted. "Most fishing boats aren't that big, either. Those are war vessels. It looks like they're on a course for Berk."

"What if they are?" she asked. "The humans aren't happy unless they have someone to fight. Some of us have tried to be peacemakers in the past, and break up their battles. When that happens, they all turn on us instead, and that ends badly for everyone, but mostly us. Stay up here where it's safe and peaceful."

"Myrkrid, I can't do that. I'm not a human anymore, and Berk village isn't my home anymore, but those people were my people once. I can't just stand aside and let them get invaded! Especially when I'm in a position to actually do something about it. No more failed inventions, no more minor calibration issues – I'm a Night Fury! I could stop that entire fleet in its tracks."

"Dimmadreki, I thought those Vikings hated you! I thought they made you miserable and treated you like dirt! Why would you risk one scale off your belly for people like that?"

"I don't think it's a human trait," he answered. "I think it's a Dimmadreki trait. This is just something I have to do." He folded his wings and prepared to dive.

Suddenly, she swerved downward and got right in front of him. "Don't you remember the promise you made?" she begged him. She sounded scared, not angry. "How can you stay with me and help raise our hatchling if you're going to throw your life away, sticking your nose into every senseless battle you see? Those Berks would be just as happy to kill you as the men on the ships. You don't owe any of them anything! But you owe me a promise. That was the deal. Please stay out of it, Dimmadreki. Do it for me!"

He gazed at her sadly. "I'm going to keep my promise to you, and to our hatchling. When he's grown, I'll make you another promise for the next egg, and another one for the egg after that. But there are people on Berk who I care about, even if they don't care about me in return. This isn't about what they deserve. It's about right and wrong. Please don't stop me."

"There's nothing I can do to talk you out of doing something stupid?" she asked.

"You got involved with an ex-Hiccup. It's an occupational hazard."

"All right," she said resignedly. "Then you take the ones on the left, and I'll get the ones on the right. Fire at long range so they can't see you. If they turn back, we let them go. Deal?"

"I love you," he smiled. "Deal."

**o**

Alvin stood in the bow of his flagship, feeling the wind blowing his hair and beard into a bedraggled mess. He liked it that way; it made him look fierce in battle. He'd been looking forward to this for weeks! This wasn't a full-scale invasion; he didn't have enough men to conquer Berk and keep it. But he could raid Berk, steal their goods, kidnap a few of their women and children, kill any men who got in his way... and then do it again in a few months... and in a few years, he _would_ have enough men to conquer Berk and keep it. They could leave behind that useless rocky wasteland known as Outcast Island forever. The town's defenses would be less formidable than usual because the Berk chief was distracted over the disappearance of his son. This was the time to strike. Maybe he'd even get a chance to face off against Stoick himself!

He grabbed a lantern, held it out over the side of the ship, and waved it up and down three times. After a few seconds, he saw a similar lantern waved up and down three times from far back in the formation. That would be Savage on the aftmost ship. Their signals told each other that all was well in the fleet – no mutinies, no leaky ships, no one jumping ship.

Just for once, things were actually going according to plan.

Then he heard one of the few sounds that could make his blood run cold. It was a rising whistle, from somewhere above him and to the right. A brilliant, fast-moving blur of blue light came out of nowhere and shot toward him. It struck the second ship in the right-hand column and blew the mast in half. The severed top half toppled overboard, taking the sail with it. There was nothing for the crew to do but cut it away and run out the oars. That forced all the ships behind it to veer to the side to avoid colliding with it as it slowed down.

Night Fury! Of all the rotten luck! A lone dragon had chosen _this_ night of all nights to pick a fight with Vikings! "Lookouts, eyes right!" he bellowed. "It may come back for another –"

...and then he heard that whistle again, this time from the left side. This time, the firebolt hit the lead ship in the left column and tore its bow off. The ship was obviously doomed; its men dropped their weapons and threw themselves into the sea, trying to swim to another ship nearby. Some of those ships slowed down to pick up survivors, which threw the left-hand column into almost as much disarray as the right column. Alvin, in the center column, didn't know which way to look.

For a minute or two, there was silence, and the Outcast chief began to hope that the dragon had had its fun and left. Then he heard that whistle again, and it came from both sides. _Two_ Night Furies...? He got his answer when the lead ship in the right column and the second ship in the left column were both hit at once. The ship on the right had its rudder and much of its side blasted into matchwood, and several men were thrown through the air and into the sea. If one good wave hit it, it would founder immediately. The unfortunate ship on the left was hit near the base of its mast. The mast was pushed a foot to the side, then fell straight down, punching a hole in the bottom of the ship. Water poured in; the men tried to plug the leak, then joined their friends in the water, looking for an undamaged ship they could swim to. Adding to the confusion was the fact that every dragon fireball caused a brilliant flash when it hit, and the men's night vision was now completely ruined. They had no chance of seeing their attackers.

After a third attack damaged two more ships, Alvin had had enough. "Turn back!" he bellowed. "Back to Outcast Island! Leave the swimmers behind and make full speed, or we're all dead!" His men hastened to obey – they had no desire to join those swimmers – but they managed to reach out to the men in the water with oars and rescue most of them on the way by. Oddly, as soon as they reversed their course, the dragon attack stopped.

Alvin sat in the bow of his flagship, thinking dark thoughts. He'd lost two ships, and four more were seriously damaged. It would take weeks to repair them; it would take months to import enough wood to replace the lost ones. Then there was the question of the men he'd lost. The worst loss, though, was the loss of his golden opportunity to attack Berk. By the time he was ready to try again, Stoick would probably have recovered from the loss of his son, and Berk would no longer be an easy target. His perfect chance was gone.

He stared up at the dark sky. He'd never even seen his assailants; none of his men had had a chance to fire a single weapon at them. _If one of those dragons used to be Stoick's son,_ he thought, _then if my mother was still alive, I'd __kill__ her!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 12

_A/N  
This story has now gone over 8700 views and 300 favorites, follows, and reviews. To all my readers: I am in your debt. It's this kind of amazing response that encourages me to keep coming up with new stories._

**o**

Two darker-than-dark shapes glided easily on the night wind, watching the ships below to make sure they went back the way they came. When they saw the dim shadow of Outcast Island in the distance, they knew where the ships had come from, and they also knew their battle was over for tonight. They'd won.

"Can I ask you something?" Dimmadreki asked as they lazily returned home. "When we first met, you were a terror on two wings – you were smacking me around, making demands, giving orders as if I belonged to you. But tonight, now that I _do_ kind of belong to you, you didn't do any of that. You practically begged me not to attack; you made all kinds of emotional appeals. I don't miss being smacked around, but what caused the sudden change?"

"It's because I'm carrying life," Myrkrid replied softly. "That changes everything now. You aren't just a male who might make a father for my child; you _are_ that father. I can still wallop you with my tail if you really need it, but I probably won't, because that won't make you want to stay and help raise our little one. It's not about what's best for me now. It's about what's best for that tiny dragon inside me. I will smack you around, or treat you as an equal, or humble myself in front of you, or run away from you and let all the other dragons think I'm a coward, if that's what I think is best for that new life." She paused. "That gives you a lot of power over me."

"That's not a power I'd ever want to use," he said reassuringly. "I never had power over anybody before, and I never wanted it, even for revenge against people who might have deserved it. Now I've found someone who is actually nice to me; why would I want to be unkind to you?"

She didn't answer for a while. At last, she said, "That kind of attitude is very rare among dragons."

"It's not so common among humans, either," he said sardonically.

When they landed, she fluttered her tail fins along his side, the way she'd done just before they'd gone to Berk to meet Fishlegs. This time, he closed his eyes and purred.

"_Somebody_ has power over somebody else here," he whispered, "but I don't think it's me."

**o**

Fishlegs was making his way through the forest, trying to be quiet. He wasn't doing a very good job of it.

Some of Astrid's relatives from her mother's tribe had sailed to Berk for a family reunion. There was no way Astrid could wiggle out of that, not even to search for dragons that might not be there. He'd decided to use his day off to continue the search by himself, not because he expected to find anything, but mostly because he had nothing else to do. The other teens were still shunning him because they thought he was under disgrace.

_I hear a waterfall,_ he thought, _but I haven't seen one. That means there's someplace nearby where I haven't looked yet_.

He found the stream that must be feeding that waterfall, and he could hear the water tumbling over a cliff somewhere nearby, but the dense trees and rocks kept him from just following the stream. He turned aside, found a narrow way through an assortment of moss-covered boulders... and stepped into another world.

It was a sunken grotto dominated by a clear lagoon. He might be the first person ever to set foot in this place. The waterfall was to his right, and it was making the only sounds he could hear. The grass was green and soft, the air was still and clear, and the two black dragons were standing side by side about sixty feet away, staring at him.

He froze. He had no way of knowing if either of these dragons was Hiccup. Even if one of them was his friend in dragon form, this wasn't a nice safe place like Berk; this was the dragons' own habitat, and they might want to defend it against intruders. He hadn't even brought a shield with him this time, just a lunch. What should his next move be? He waited for some kind of brilliant idea to flash into his head.

It was the dragons who made the next move. One of them made some kind of decision, and leaped at him with a roar. Even if he could have moved, he couldn't have gotten to safety in time, and he was paralyzed with terror. But the other dragon roared something at the first one, which dug in its claws and skidded to a halt less than a foot away from him. It glared at him with bared teeth, and sniffed him from head to toe.

"Uhhh... nice dragon, nice dragon," he stammered. Night Furies were not large dragons, but they were a heck of a lot bigger than he was, and a lot scarier. The two dragons had a quick conversation that sounded like they were planning to tear him apart. Then the second one took a few steps toward him, and wrote on the ground with its claw.

WHY ARE YOU HERE?

"Umm... that's a long story, and it's kind of hard to tell a story like that when there's an angry dragon who's about to eat me."

The dragons exchanged words again, but the angry one didn't back off.

I SMELL FISH. IF YOU SHARED  
YOUR LUNCH WITH HER, SHE'D  
TAKE IT AS A PEACE OFFERING

"Well... okay, if you say so." He opened his bag and pulled out the fish roll. The angry dragon quickly switched to a curious face and backed off a step. He broke the roll in half and held it out to her. Then he realized she was about to bite at it, so he tossed it to her to save his fingers, and SNAP! It was gone. She swallowed, then fixed her eyes on the other half of the fish roll. He glanced at it sadly and said, "Oh, well. Alive and hungry is better than not-alive," and tossed it to her. SNAP! She looked him up and down again, and backed away from him to stand next to Hiccup.

SHE'S A LITTLE JUMPY THESE  
DAYS. EXPECTANT MOTHERS  
CAN BE LIKE THAT, I'M TOLD

"Expectant... you mean there's going to be a cute little baby dragon? Can I see him when he's born? I mean hatched? I bet he's going to be the most...uhh... wait a minute! If _she's_ going to be a _mother,_ does that mean _you_...?"

The Hiccup-dragon almost looked embarrassed.

IT'S COMPLICATED, BUT YEAH.  
WE ARE A COUPLE

Fishlegs sucked in a breath through his teeth. "You and _her_...? I mean, uhh... your dad's not going to like it when he finds out his only son married a Night Fury. Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that."

WHAT DOES HE THINK OF HAVING  
A NIGHT FURY FOR A SON?

"Well, he doesn't actually know about that yet. I mean, I told him, but he didn't believe me. That's kind of what I'm doing here."

YOU PROMISED US A LONG STORY

"Okay. This is so weird, standing here, talking to dragons! I don't think any Viking ever did this before! I mean, Gobber talks to the dragons in the training ring, he calls the Gronckle an overgrown sausage, but that's not quite the same thing as –"

THE STORY, PLEASE

"Oh. Sorry. Anyway, Astrid found the runes you wrote, and it got back to the chief, and they had this big meeting where they tried to figure out who wrote them. They didn't believe it was you because, you know, they thought it was impossible, and they couldn't prove it was me, but they all think so, and now I've been thrown out of dragon training and apprenticed as a baker, and everybody looks at me funny when I walk by, and I don't think I have much of a future in that town anymore.

"Astrid figured that, if we found you, we could ask you to come back to Berk and prove to your dad that I was telling the truth, and that would get my reputation back. So we've been trying to find you ever since, and today I got lucky, and here we are."

ME WALKING INTO A TOWN FULL OF  
DRAGON-SLAYERS DOESN'T SOUND  
LIKE A GOOD MOVE.  
I KNOW MY LADY WILL BE AGAINST IT

"Your lady? Oh, _her_. Yeah, I guess that could be a problem. But you were always the smart one, even if your ideas never actually worked, and I figured maybe you could think of a way to clear my name without getting yourself in trouble."

SO IF I HELP YOU, YOU CAN GO BACK  
TO DRAGON TRAINING AND RESUME  
LEARNING HOW TO KILL ME?

"Ouch. Okay, I admit I really haven't thought this thing through. Honestly, the dragon training thing isn't that important. I was doing terrible at it anyway. I kind of like being a baker; the ovens never try to bite my hands off, I don't have to compete against anybody, and I get to eat my mistakes with my supper. I just want people to stop thinking I'm a liar; that's what matters to me. Hey, where are you going?"

The Hiccup-dragon walked right past him and stood next to a boulder. It rubbed its shoulder back and forth on the rock for a few seconds, then stepped away and gestured with its head for him to look. On the boulder's face, and on the ground next to it, were a dozen shiny black discs, about three-quarters of an inch across. Fishlegs picked them all up and looked at them in wonder.

"Night Fury scales! These will prove that I really met a Night Fury! Thank you, Hiccup!"

MY NAME IS DIMMADREKI,  
REMEMBER?

"You're seriously changing your name, for real?" he asked dubiously. "Don't you think that's a bit melodramatic?"

NO. I'VE CHANGED, AND  
MY NAME HAS CHANGED

"No argument on the 'I've changed' part," Fishlegs decided. "I should get home soon, but would it be okay if I came back here in a week?"

YOU NEVER WANTED TO  
TALK TO ME WHEN I WAS  
HICCUP THE USELESS

Fishlegs hung his head. "Yeah, I know. I was afraid to, because Snotlout would have given me the same treatment he gave you." Then he brightened. "But now, I'm the ultimate dragon geek, and you're the ultimate dragon! Snotlout will never know about us, and if he did, he'd think I'm lying again. This is my chance to learn things about dragons that nobody else knows! You can talk to me, and understand me, and answer all my questions, and..." His face fell again. "...and there isn't much for you in this deal, is there?"

MY MATE DOESN'T LIKE HUMANS.  
IF YOU COME ALONE AND  
UNARMED, MAYBE WE CAN ALL  
WORK SOMETHING OUT.

MAYBE

"Okay," he answered, not wanting to get too hopeful. "Whatever else happens, my dragon training days are over. I won't even try to kill any more dragons. That's a promise, Hiccup."

WHO?

"Sorry. I meant Dimmadreki."

I'LL SEE YOU ANOTHER  
DAY, THEN, FISHLEGS

"Thanks!" The burly young man scooted out the cove's entrance and headed back to the village.

"What was all that about?" Myrkrid demanded.

"He might be our first human ally," Dimmadreki replied.

"I don't trust him," she shot back. "Even if he did feed me fish."

"Will you at least let him try to earn your trust?" he asked.

"I'll think about it," she said after a moment. "I don't like it that one of _them_ knows where our lair is."

"He won't say anything," Dimmadreki replied firmly. "For one thing, I know him; the chance to visit us and talk to us will mean a lot more to him than the chance to make trouble. For another thing, if the village thinks he's a liar, then they won't believe a thing he says anyway."

"Okay. That makes sense," she nodded. "Let's get back to sleep." She curled up on the ground, he wrapped himself around her, and they were soon blissfully asleep together.


	13. Chapter 13

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 13

"Sir, I can _prove_ that I've been in contact with the Night Furies!" Fishlegs had found the chief in the forge, talking to Gobber about the need for more weapons for the village. Gobber was protesting that he couldn't keep up with the demand without help from his missing apprentice; he was grateful for the distraction.

"Young man, I have neither the time nor the energy for more pranks," the chief rumbled.

"This isn't a prank, sir! Look and see for yourself!" He held out a handful of the scales. Stoick took them curiously, then handed one to Gobber as he closely examined one himself.

"What is it?" the smith asked.

"They're Night Fury scales, sir," Fishlegs explained. "I visited the Night Furies this morning, and I talked to Hiccup some more."

"I've never seen anything like it," the chief said, focusing on the scales and choosing to ignore the reference to his son for the moment.

"It does look like a scale o' some kind," Gobber nodded, "an' it's not from any dragon _I've_ ever fought before."

"Young man, go find Spitelout and bring him back to the forge," Stoick decided. "This calls for immediate discussion." The big young man left at a run, and returned about ten minutes later with the town's second-in-command. Fishlegs told his story, and Stoick showed Spitelout the scales. A few seconds of silence followed, as each of them processed his thoughts.

"You didn't get yourself in enough trouble the first time, young man?" Spitelout demanded. "You're back for more?"

"Th' lad's got hard evidence this time," Gobber retorted.

"A handful of black circles! They could have come from anywhere!"

"If they _are_ Night Fury scales, then at least part of his tale is true," Stoick thought out loud, "and that would lend weight to the rest of his story."

Spitelout was shocked. "Stoick, you're not seriously suggesting that you think he's _right?!_"

"No," the chief answered slowly, "but he's starting to look a lot less wrong."

"If it's true," Gobber mused, "that means we canna shoot down any Night Furies, fer fear o' killin' Hiccup."

"If he's right, that means the Night Furies can burn our village to the ground," Spitelout exclaimed, "and we don't dare do a thing about it!"

"We've never hit one anyway, so what difference does that make?" Stoick answered, beginning to shake off his emotional shock at Fishlegs' revelations.

"I'll tell you what difference it makes!" Spitelout was amazed that the other two didn't get it. "Didn't you hear what the young man said? This dragon, Hiccup or not, has a _mate!_ They're going to lay _eggs,_ right here on this island! We're going to be up to our armpits in deadly Night Furies!"

"Seein' how rare they are, I doubt they breed as quickly as all o' that," Gobber interrupted.

"But that isn't even the worst part," Spitelout went on, ignoring him. "Stoick, is your son stupid?"

"No!" the chief burst out angrily. "My son has his faults, but stupidity is _not_ one of them."

"Then consider what we're going to be up against, Stoick. Dozens and dozens of Night Furies, all ready and willing to tear our town apart... but not just _any_ Night Furies! They will be Night Furies with minds like Hiccup's mind – smart, clever, able to think of new things and new ways to do things. These Night Furies will be the most dangerous enemies we could ever imagine, with the fire of a dragon and the mind of a Hiccup. They can outfight us _and_ out-think us!"

"Ye never had such kind words fer th' boy when he was among us," Gobber commented drily.

"Sir, Hiccup promised me he would never raid Berk!" Fishlegs cut in.

Spitelout waved him off. "Maybe he did, but did his female make that promise? Have his intelligent, dragon-born sons and daughters made that promise? Stoick, this is a clear and present danger to Berk, and to Vikings everywhere! You owe it to your village... you owe it to _humanity_... to stop this threat in its tracks, before those hybrid Night Furies destroy us all!"

"You're asking me to kill my own son!" Stoick nearly shouted.

"Your son is a dragon," Spitelout answered, trying to sound kind and failing completely. "He's lost to us. He's admitted to Fishlegs that he's changed."

"He's still my son," Stoick said softly.

"Stoick, he's bred himself to a Night Fury! He's taken a bride without even asking his father's permission! No Viking would ever do such things. Surely you can see he's not your son anymore!"

"He's still Hiccup on the inside!" Fishlegs protested. "He never moved to hurt me, he called off his girlfriend when she tried to attack me, I can tell he's smart by the things he writes... it's still him in there!"

Stoick stood with his hands to his temples, slowly shaking his head, trying to make sense of these impossible revelations. How was he supposed to make a decision when his second-in-command was arguing against all human feelings, and the teen with the facts couldn't prove them?

"If ye aren't sure, then we don't 'ave to kill 'im," Gobber suggested. "We'll take 'em both with nets an' bolas. Once we know which one is Hiccup, the chief can have the honor o' killin' the other one in th' ring, an' we'll just... keep the Hiccup-dragon out o' trouble."

"You mean keep my son in a cage?"

"If he's still your son on the inside, we'll… keep him safe. Yeah, safe," Spitelout explained, hoping he sounded convincing. "We'll keep him from being a menace to the village and the people. Otherwise, someone is sure to try and kill him."

Stoick was still trying to think clearly, but it was hard in these circumstances. "There's one thing we have to settle first," he said firmly. "Young man, you've proven to my satisfaction that you've had contact with one or more Night Furies. You have _not_ proven that one of those Night Furies is really my son."

"I met one and lived to tell the tale, sir. Doesn't that count for something?" Fishlegs asked pointedly.

"Maybe it means yer very lucky," Gobber suggested.

"Or maybe it felt sorry for you," Spitelout chimed in helpfully.

"So… how I can I prove it's really Hiccup?" Fishlegs wondered.

The three adults pondered that for a few seconds.

"If the dragon walked into town and wrote, 'I am Hiccup' where we all could see him do it, that would do the job," Spitelout said.

"He'll never do that," Fishlegs blurted out. "He's afraid someone will kill him."

"That's a reasonable assumption," Stoick nodded.

"If he wrote it in this secret hidin' place o' his, in front of a few reliable witnesses, I'd accept that," Gobber said, and Stoick nodded again.

"I don't think he'll do that, either, sir. His girl friend doesn't like people. He told me not to come back unless I was alone and unarmed."

"In that case," Spitelout commented, "I'd say _you_ have a problem, young man."

Fishlegs slowly turned and walked away. He'd hoped that the dragon scales would solve his problem, but they'd barely made any difference. The adults were not helping him at all. Maybe he needed the help of someone who wasn't an adult. Yeah, that was how he'd do it. He made a quick visit to the docks, then headed back into the forest, unaware that someone else who wasn't an adult was silently following him.

He got back to the cove entrance, took a deep breath, and crouched to step through. The dragons were pretty much where they'd been when he left them that morning, but they were lying side by side, apparently asleep. One of them was stirring, so he stayed motionless and waited until they noticed him. That took about ten seconds; then one dragon leaped to its feet, and the other started to charge at him but quickly stopped.

"Uh, good evening, Mrs. Hiccup," he quavered. "No, that's Mrs. Dimmadreki. Uh, Dimmadreki, what should I call her?"

HER NAME IS MYRKRID

"Okay. Myrkrid, I'm Fishlegs, and I hope we can be friends. At the very least, I hope you don't eat me." He tossed her a fish from his pocket; she snapped it out of the air and relaxed her aggressive posture. Dimmadreki made some noises that sounded like he was translating what Fishlegs had said. ("At least he has some manners," Myrkrid commented.) "Dimmadreki, thanks again for the scales, but the chief isn't convinced that it's really you. Can you think of any other way to prove it without getting yourself hurt?"

The dragon made a face that looked remarkably like Hiccup's I'm-thinking expression, considering how different his head and face looked now. Then he drew a square on the ground. He drew two vertical and two horizontal lines inside the square that divided it into nine smaller squares, then wrote the numbers from 1 to 9, one in each square.

TELL THEM TO DRAW THIS IN THE UPPER  
SHEEP PASTURE. THEY SHOULD DRAW 2  
NUMBERS NEAR THE TRAINING RING.  
TONIGHT, I WILL SHOOT THE BOXES WHOSE  
NUMBERS MATCH THOSE NUMBERS.

"Okay, that _might_ work," Fishlegs said doubtfully. "That will prove that you're intelligent, but how will it prove that you're you?"

YOU'RE RIGHT. NEVER MIND. He looked thoughtful again. That was when they saw motion near the entrance to the cove. Both dragons tensed up; Fishlegs quickly stepped aside so he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire if the Night Furies started flaming.

Astrid cautiously stepped through the opening, axe at the ready. "So _this_ is where you –" She got no further before the nearest Night Fury lunged at her with a roar.

_Never mind if it's Hiccup or not; this is self-defense!_ she thought. She screamed and hurled her axe at the charging dragon's head with all her strength… and the other dragon spat out a bright-blue fireball that hit her axehead in mid-flight. The axe spun crookedly, splashed into the water, and sank out of sight. _It was as if he __knew__ I'd throw it,_ she thought, _and aimed for the spot where it would go_. Then she realized she'd thrown away her weapon and was now helpless in front of a _very_ angry dragon.

That dragon backed her up against a boulder and pinned her there with its muzzle, growling so low that she could feel it in her bones. "Fishlegs!" she hissed. "If it'll listen to you, then tell it to let me go!"

"You broke my deal to be alone and unarmed, and you tried to kill Myrkrid. I don't think they'll listen to either of us right now."

She glared at him. "Myrkrid? Oh, now you're on a first-name basis with these dragons?"

"We were always on a first-name basis with that one, but his name is Dimmadreki now."

"That's really Hiccup?" She looked at the other dragon. "Now you're calling yourself Dimma-something? You're getting a little pretentious, don't you think?" Myrkrid gave her midsection a shove with her muzzle; Astrid squirmed and tried to embed herself into the rock, to keep that dragon from getting any closer. Dimmadreki stalked over and stood next to his mate. She glanced from one Night Fury to the other, and thought of something that made her squirm even worse. "You... you and her... the two of you... _ick!_ With a female _dragon? _How could you _do_ that?"

MAGNIFICENTLY,  
ACCORDING TO HER

Fishlegs tried and failed to stifle a snort. It wasn't like Hiccup to brag like that, but it was definitely like him to come back with such a sarcastic answer. Astrid glared at him angrily for a moment.

She stared at the dragon who did the writing, searching for something about it that looked like Hiccup. All she saw was black scales, bat-like wings, and a very threatening expression on the reptilian face. The only reason she was even remotely willing to believe Fishlegs was the simple fact that these dragons hadn't killed him (or her).

He stared back at Astrid. She was just as blonde and blue-eyed and fair-skinned and slender as she'd ever been. He searched the inner reaches of his brain, trying to remember why she'd seemed so irresistible to him such a short time ago. Finally, he wrote some more runes on the ground.

WHY ARE YOU HERE?

"I was following Fishlegs," she snapped. "We were _supposed_ to be looking for the Night Furies _together_."

"I thought you were stuck in a family reunion!" Fishlegs protested.

"I couldn't stand being around all those ancient relatives in their forties and fifties, reminiscing about the good old days when men were men and women were obedient," she growled. "I said I was going for a walk, and nobody cared; that's how it always is with young people at family reunions. Have you worked out a way to clear your name yet?"

"None of us can think of a way that will convince the chief without somebody getting killed," Fishlegs replied. "He's a tough one to convince, especially with Spitelout shooting down everything I say. Gobber is trying to help, but no one listens to him; maybe that's a side effect of hanging around Hiccup for so long. I may have to live with an unclear name."

"I don't give up that easily," she shot back. "I am _going_ to find a way to make this right, even if it takes me a year!"

"I, uhh, I don't think the dragons have a year," he quavered. Dimmadreki gave him a startled look. Fishlegs explained about the adults' plans to capture the Night Furies with nets; he didn't mention their specific plans for Myrkrid.

The female suddenly pulled away from Astrid and turned to face Dimmadreki; they exchanged some urgent-sounding grunts and growls. Dimmadreki turned to Fishlegs.

CAN WE TRUST YOU TO NOT TALK  
ABOUT THIS PLACE?

"Yes!" he answered without hesitation.

WHAT ABOUT HER?

He hesitated, and that was all the answer the Night Fury needed.

NOW WE HAVE TO FIND A NEW PLACE  
TO LIVE. DON'T BOTHER COMING  
BACK HERE; WE WON'T BE HERE.  
WE REALLY LIKED IT HERE, TOO

With an irritated glare, he turned to Astrid.

THANK YOU FOR MESSING THAT UP

"What do you expect me to do?" she snapped. "Betray my own village?"

"At least he still has his sense of sarcasm," Fishlegs commented. "Will I ever see you again, Dimmadreki?"

PROBABLY NOT

Fishlegs' crestfallen expression nearly made Astrid laugh – how could he be disappointed at saying good-bye to dragons? But Dimmadreki seemed slightly upset about it.

I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU.  
CLIMB ON MY BACK AND I'LL  
FLY YOU BACK TO THE VILLAGE

"_What__?_" Astrid couldn't believe her eyes.

"Whoa!" Fishlegs exclaimed. "Me? Ride a dragon? Ride a Night Fury? Uhh… there aren't any steps. How do I get on?"

Dimmadreki extended a foreleg for Fishlegs to use as a step. He hesitantly climbed up onto the dragon's back and tried to get comfortable. "There aren't any handles, either," he noticed. "How do I hang on?"

TIGHTLY

"Wait! What about me?" Astrid demanded. She had no desire to ride a dragon, but the idea of Fishlegs doing something heroic without her was too much to swallow.

WHILE YOU'RE WALKING HOME,  
THINK ABOUT THE BEST WAY TO  
ASK SOMEONE FOR A FAVOR.  
HINT: TRYING TO KILL MY MATE  
ISN'T HOW IT'S DONE

Then he bounded into the sky, with Myrkrid close behind him. Fishlegs nearly fell off, but soon found his balance. As they winged out of sight, Astrid could hear him shouting, "Oh, yeah! I think I might be awesome!"

She had to walk home. Fishlegs got a dragon ride. She'd lost her best axe. Hiccup had found a girlfriend. Life had suddenly become _totally_ unfair.


	14. Chapter 14

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 14

The two dragons made a fast pass over the town at low altitude. Dimmadreki turned back to Myrkrid, who was just behind him and to his right. "I'm going to put down the human in front of those three identical houses," he called. "Then I'll write a quick rune in the dirt and go."

"I am _so_ against this!" Myrkrid protested. "There are humans right in front of those houses!"

"Exactly," he replied. "They're men, so their testimony can't be challenged, and they're unarmed, so they can't hurt me."

"They probably have friends with weapons nearby," she warned him.

"This will take half a minute or less. Please let me do this, Myrkrid. It's important to me."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't care if one of them is your own father – if they make one hostile move against you, they're _fired!_"

"I'll accept that," he nodded. They turned back toward Dimmadreki's target zone; he glided down, while she gained altitude and prepared her fires, just in case.

Dimmadreki did exactly what he said he'd do. He landed right in front of the four tradesmen who were talking shop after a long day. They were so stunned at the sight, they said and did nothing for the time it took for Fishlegs to climb off the dragon's back, and for the dragon to write one word in the dirt. HICCUP. Then he leaped into the sky and was gone.

"I was really expecting the worst," she admitted as he joined her in the sky.

"Don't you know me by now?" he wondered. "I keep my promises."

"I was worried about what _they'd_ do, not what _you_ were going to do," she said. They turned their backs on the island of Berk and flew out to sea. "So... what happens next?"

"I guess we need to find a safe place to live," he said thoughtfully. "I'm starting to think I can't trust humans anymore, except for a few individuals. We need a place where there aren't any humans, so you can lay our egg in safety."

She smiled. "I guess there are a few things about dragons I haven't told you yet. We all lay our eggs in the same place, except for a few exceptions like the Changewings. All we need is a place to live until the time comes."

"_All_ in the same place?" He tried to form a mental picture of hundreds of dragons gathered on one island. "Is this a special place?"

"It's perfect for hatching our eggs, but not for much else," she told him. "It has a warm-water lagoon in the middle, so the eggs can hatch without hurting anybody, and it –"

"Whoa! Stop. Back up. What do you mean, 'hatch without hurting anybody'?"

"Oh, that. I keep forgetting how little you know about us. The eggs explode when they hatch."

"The eggs explode." He shook his head in wonder. "I _do_ have a lot to learn."

"Generally speaking, the tougher the dragon, the bigger the bang," she explained. "A Gronckle egg makes almost the same explosion as a Gronckle lava-ball. Our egg won't be nearly as dramatic as that, but I'll still drop it in the water when it's ready to hatch. The warmth speeds up the hatching, and the water contains the explosion. All dragons do it that way."

"So why don't we just go to this special place now, and live there until it's time?" he asked.

"We'd get kind of hungry if we did that," she replied. "We fish those waters very heavily every winter during hatching season; there aren't many fish there that are big enough for us. There are enough smaller fish to feed the babies, but if we ate those, the babies would go hungry. That's a non-starter. Once we get to that island, don't expect to eat much, unless you get very lucky."

"Got it," he nodded. "So how long will it be until that happens?"

"We all feel a signal inside us when it's time; it's some kind of instinct. It always happens in the dead of winter, so it will be a few weeks, at least. We definitely need to find a place for ourselves until that happens. How much do you know about the islands around here?"

"Not much," he admitted. "I wasn't the kind of Viking who went on raids or tried to find the dragons' nest. I almost never went out on the ships at all. I think a lot of the sailors thought I was bad luck."

"Then I guess we'll just fly in an outward spiral until we find a place to stay," she decided. He had no better suggestions, so they flew, and flew, and flew.

They found several islands that day. One of them looked dry and barren, and bristled with catapults; they rejected that one immediately. "That's Outcast Island," Dimmadreki commented. "I forgot it was this close to Berk. It's no place for a sensible dragon."

Another island was covered in tall, gnarled trees. As they landed on a likely-looking hilltop, the air in front of them shimmered, and three odd-looking dragons with blade-like horns and leafy antennae suddenly appeared before them. Dimmadreki backed off in fear; this was the first time he'd met a dragon in the wild, aside from his mate. Myrkrid stood her ground, but didn't assume a threatening posture. One of the three eased forward and spoke.

"Night Furies, this is our island. We aren't comfortable with other dragons around here. We hope you understand."

"We understand," Myrkrid said kindly. "We didn't mean to trespass. We'll be on our way, won't we, Dimmadreki?" He nodded mutely, and they both headed for the clouds again.

"What was that about?" he asked her after a minute.

"Those were Changewings," she explained. "They don't have hard scales to protect them like the rest of us, so they like to live with others of their kind, safe from any threats. I assure you, there were a lot more than three of them watching us, but we'd never see them in the daylight unless they wanted us to see them."

"Could we see them at night?" he asked.

"Our eyes pick up traces of heat, as well as light," she said. "In daylight, the light totally overpowers the heat, but when it's dark, we could see their general outlines, which would be more than enough to show us where they're hiding. They know that about us; it takes away their feeling of safety. That's why they asked us to leave. They didn't think we'd actually attack them; it's just the fact that we could if we wanted to."

On they flew. They found several uninhabited islets, but they were all too small for Myrkrid's taste. "There's no place to hide," she complained. "We'd be too easy to see from the air."

"Who would be looking at us from the air?" he wondered.

"Enslaved dragons," she replied quickly. "They could tell their Monster about us, and she could fly over and add us to her collection. I don't want that kind of attention."

They passed another rocky islet; Myrkrid shook her head and didn't even bother descending to check it out. But Dimmadreki saw something on the shore that intrigued him. "It looks man-made," he said.

"Then we don't need it," she replied.

"We're not getting far with this search – will it hurt anything if we spend five minutes checking it out?" he asked. "I'm curious."

She sighed. "Why do you males always have to be so curious about things that don't matter? All right." They spiraled down together and landed next to Dimmadreki's unknown object.

It was a small wooden chest, about a foot long, tarred to make it waterproof. There was no way to know how old it was, or how long it had been floating before it washed ashore on this desolate little island. The lock was extremely rusty; Dimmadreki hooked a claw into it and snapped it off easily. He raised the lid. Inside was an assortment of small glass bottles, sealed with corks and containing various-colored liquids. Carved into the inside of the lid was a name, "Excellinor," which meant nothing to him.

"Have you seen what you came to see?" she asked.

"These bottles are all labeled," he answered distractedly. "Let me read a few, and find out what this stuff is." He couldn't grip the tiny bottles with his claws, so he retracted his teeth and lifted one out with his mouth. He set it on the rocky ground and rolled it over with his paw until he could read it.

"Love Potion #9," he read out loud. "Guaranteed to make the imbiber fall head over heels in love with the first person of the opposite sex he/she meets." He shook his head. "Where was this stuff when I was trying to impress Astrid?"

"Who's Astrid?" Myrkrid demanded.

"She's the girl who threw the axe at you in the cove."

"And you wanted to impress _her?_ I think I've lost respect for you, Dimmadreki!"

"My tastes in females have changed, in case you didn't notice," he smiled.

"I did notice, but I'm still allowed to be jealous. You're mine now," she grinned back.

"No argument." He pulled out another bottle. "Hair Restorer. Guaranteed to make lost hair grow back." He looked at his mate. "I think this was a _seid-kona_'s sample chest. She'd sell a few bottles of this stuff whenever she needed to make some quick money."

"What's a seed-corn?" Myrkrid had never heard the Norse term for a witch before.

"A _seid-kona_ is a person who tries to influence things that other people can't control, like love and fertility. They're usually women. Some of them are obvious fakes, but they're all great at finding reasons why it's your own fault if their promises don't come true. Someone with potions like this will prey on people who don't think they can handle their own lives without help."

"I don't think you ever needed that kind of help," she said. "Your human life was pretty awful, but you always found a way to do what you had to do; you didn't break and you didn't run away. What else was this seed-corn selling?"

He pulled out another bottle, read its label… and just stared at it. "Well?" she demanded. "What does it say?"

"Curse-Be-Gone," he read in a shaky voice. "Guaranteed to undo the effects of curses, hexes, maledictions, and any other unwanted magic."

"Why is that a problem?" she wondered. "You aren't suffering from any… no. Dimmadreki, no! Don't! Don't even _think_ it!"

"I still don't know what changed me into a dragon," he said thoughtfully, "but it had to be some kind of magic. If this stuff actually works…"

"But why?" she half-demanded, half-begged. "I thought you were happy with me!"

"It's not just you," he tried to explain. "It's my whole life! I didn't get to choose what I've become. Now, all of a sudden, this little bottle means I can actually choose."

"Would you seriously want to go back to what you were?"

"I'm nothing but a homeless, wandering dragon now!" he retorted. "Back in Berk, I'd be the son of the chief, with a house, a bed, warm clothes... every benefit a Viking can have!"

"Back in Berk, you'd be Hiccup the Useless, with all the bullying and neglect those Vikings could dish out! Now you're free! Free from _all_ of that!"

"My dad must be missing me."

"He's the only one, Dimmadreki! The others would curse and spit on the ground if you walked back into their village – you said so yourself! What about how much _I'd_ miss you?"

"I'm his only son. I owe it to him to go back."

"You owe it to _your_ son to stay!"

"Myrkrid, can you imagine how it felt to have thumbs, to be able to hold things and use them, and then lose that ability?"

"Then imagine how you'll feel if you lose your wings, now that you've learned to fly."

He took a deep breath. "Everyone has always told me about my duty! My responsibility! What I owe to others! Just once, can't I think about what's best for me?"

She softly said, "Dimmadreki, do you love me?"

He stopped and thought. He looked at his forepaws. He looked at Myrkrid. He looked across the sea toward where Berk probably was. He looked up at the clouds. He looked back at her.

He picked up the bottle in his mouth. Then he tossed his head and sent the bottle flying. It hit a rock eighty feet away and shattered; the liquid flowed down and soaked into the rocky ground. Then he shut the chest's lid, turned, and kicked it out to sea. With its lid not latched shut, it sank out of sight after a few seconds, taking its contents down with it. He watched a few bubbles rise, then turned back to her. "Yes. I do love you. That's my final answer."

Myrkrid let out the breath she'd been holding. "Dimmadreki, don't _ever_ scare me like that again!"

"I had to be sure," he said quietly. "The choice had to be mine. There was always that nagging doubt in the back of my mind – 'what if I _could_ go back?' I thought I already knew the answer, but I had to settle it in my own head."

"Are you sure now?" she asked earnestly.

"Perfectly sure," he nodded, and glanced at the stain on the rock, then back at her. "Thank you for helping me focus on what really matters."

She glanced at the two bottles he'd taken out of the box and left on the ground. "Maybe you should drink that love potion and then look at me, just to be sure."

He snorted. "I don't need to do that! _That_ question is completely settled. Besides, those bottles are probably full of nothing but colored sugar water anyway. Let's go find ourselves a home." They leaped into the air and continued their search, flying a little closer to each other than they usually did.

**o**

_A/N  
...and to all of you who are close to panicking because you want to know how the Vikings handled the events at the beginning of this chapter, I have three words for you. "Wait for it."_


	15. Chapter 15

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 15

Back in Berk, that simple name, spelled out in runes in the dirt, set off an earthquake.

Four reliable witnesses had watched the dragon land, allow Fishlegs to climb off its back, and write those runes before flying away. The implications were unmistakable, and the conclusion could not be missed by anyone except a blind man, a madman, or a Spitelout.

"There _has_ to be some other explanation!" he blustered in the middle of the town meeting. "Maybe it saw Hiccup's name written somewhere and learned to copy it!" A day or two ago, he'd had no problem arguing that a dragon might be Hiccup; now he was arguing against it, just because everyone else was ready to believe it now. If the people began to sound skeptical, he'd switch again and argue in favor of a draconic Hiccup, just to keep the argument going.

"Hiccup's name has never been written anywhere where a Night Fury could see it," the chief replied, his voice heavy with grief. "There is no other explanation. My son is a dragon." He would have used the exact same tone of voice to say, "My son is dead."

"At least he's a dragon that nobody can kill," Tuffnut suggested helpfully. Astrid did a facepalm, and Ruffnut shoved her brother's helmet down over his eyes.

"So what do we do?" Phlegma demanded. "Are you telling us we can't shoot at Night Furies anymore?"

"No," Stoick sighed. "I can't do that to our village. Night Furies are still fair game for anyone who thinks he can hit one. There will be no penalty from me if you... get one."

"Sir, I told you – Dimmadreki, I mean Hiccup promised me he'd never attack this village!" Fishlegs was aghast at where this discussion was going.

"He blasted the gate of the training ring and freed all the dragons!" Spitelout burst out. "He single-handedly shut down our entire dragon training program! Doesn't that count as an attack on the village?"

"He didn't kill anyone, or hurt anybody, or burn any buildings, like dragons usually do!" Fishlegs had never tried to defend a dragon before; he hoped his attempt to defend this one would work out better than his attempts to attack them. "Hiccup never broke a promise that I know of."

"I'm hopin' yer right, laddie," Gobber said. "But a dragon never made us a promise before, so we dinna know if they keep their word."

"They're lying, destructive, evil beasts, every one of them!" Spitelout exclaimed. "They can't be trusted!" A few dozen Vikings shouted to show that they agreed.

"Sir, I trust Hiccup!" Fishlegs wasn't letting himself be intimidated this time.

"So do I," Stoick answered, somewhat reluctantly. "But how can we tell a good Night Fury from a bad Night Fury?"

"If it attacks us, it's bad." Snotlout had it all figured out, and was rather pleased with himself when several Vikings muttered their agreement.

"The only good Night Fury is a _dead_ Night Fury!" That was Spitelout's solution, and he got some agreement as well.

"What about takin' them alive?" Gobber asked. "That might be the best solution."

"That's going to be hard, sir," Fishlegs answered. "They're leaving Berk, and I don't know where they're going to be living. I don't think _they_ know."

Stoick stood up. "In the end, it doesn't matter. We haven't had any luck shooting at Night Furies, good or bad. Life in Berk is going to go on, the same as it always has." He glanced at Spitelout. "Except that you need to start training your son to take over this tribe some day."

"I've already been doing that," Spitelout answered smugly.

Stoick scowled. "It's not working. Train him harder. This meeting is dismissed." Several of the women tried to console him over his loss as he slowly walked to the door.

He paused when he passed next to Fishlegs. "Young man, it seems you were telling the truth all along. If we still had a dragon training class, you'd be invited to re-join it in the morning."

"Thank you, sir," Fishlegs said humbly, "but I really like being a baker. I'd like to stay where I am, if that's all right." Stoick nodded – his mind was far, far away – and walked out the door.

Against the nearby wall, the twins were edging nervously away from Astrid, who looked like she was on the verge of exploding like a Night Fury's firebolt. Not only was she unable to complete her victory at dragon training, but everyone in town was talking about Fishlegs, the dragon rider, instead of her! Worst of all, she realized that her parents might try to marry her off to Snotlout, now that he was the future chief. Her life had taken a sudden and dramatic turn for the worse.

Snotlout had no such worries. He swaggered up to Astrid with his usual cocky grin. "So, pretty lady, what do you say? Now that I've got a grand and glorious future ahead of me, I'm going to need a chief's wife to help me bask in glory. Maybe you and me should…" He broke off with a grunt and doubled over; an elbow in his midsection was _not_ the answer he was expecting. Astrid stormed out of the Hall angrily. Future chief or no future chief, there were limits to what she was willing to handle. Even Fishlegs would be preferable to that beast!

**o**

The Night Furies flew in ever-wider circles around Berk, trying to find a place where they could live for a few weeks and stay out of trouble. Every island they saw was either inhabited by humans, or was too barren to make a decent home, or had something else wrong with it. Myrkrid wasn't being too picky; Dimmadreki had to agree with her every objection.

At last, an unusual island came into view. It was dominated by a tall, angry-looking volcano, and was surrounded by impenetrable fog and rows of jagged sea stacks. "Could that be a good place for us?" Dimmadreki asked.

"It looks perfect, which means there are probably dragons there already," she answered, "but we'll take a look, just in case." They gained altitude easily, made sure they weren't about to plunge into a crater full of magma, and prepared to fly down into the volcano. Suddenly she exclaimed, "Hold it!" They backwinged and landed on the edge of the cone.

"I smell dragons, lots of them," she said urgently. "That means there's a whole flock of them in here. They're probably the ones who raided your town. Do you know what that means?"

Dimmadreki thought fast. "It means they're all enslaved."

"Yes, and it also means there's probably a Monster in there somewhere. I don't care how curious you are – we are _not_ going in there!"

"I'll trust your judgment on that one," he nodded, then glanced down into the cone. "But it looks like a few of _them_ are coming up to meet _us_. Tell me how I can know if they're enslaved."

"There's a glassy look in their eyes," she answered quickly. "It's more felt than seen; they're unaware of it. Remember – if the Monster comes up, get out of there fast, and _do not look in her eyes!_ If you do, I'll lose you forever!" They ended their conversation as the first of the volcano dragons, two blue Nadders and a dark-brown Gronckle, landed on the rim next to them.

"Night Furies!" a Nadder exclaimed.

"A matched pair, by the look of them," the Gronckle decided.

The other Nadder gave Myrkrid a sniff. "Soon to be a trio, unless I miss my guess. Welcome to the Nest!"

"Please come in and join us," the Gronckle added. "It's a friendly place, and we've got plenty of room for new arrivals. Especially Night Furies. We haven't seen a new Night Fury in decades!" A Nightmare and two more Gronckles joined them, adding their voices to the invitations to join this nest.

Dimmadreki tried to look into their eyes. Sure enough, there was a vague mistiness there that he hadn't seen in his mate, or in the Changewings. They seemed so friendly, so open! It was hard to believe they were being controlled by an evil mind. But Myrkrid had assured him that it was so, and he trusted her.

She was trying to fend off all the invitations. "We can't stay; we're just passing through. Thank you, but we can't stay." The other dragons seemed disappointed.

Then another dragon joined them, and her voice faded away to nothing. This one was a Night Fury... a male. The two of them stared at each other. "Tannlaus?" she finally asked.

"Myrkrid, is that you?" he exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in six years or more!"

With a chill, Dimmadreki remembered Myrkrid's words. "I've had two mates... The second one let himself get enslaved." _Awkward!_ This new Night Fury was a bit bigger than he was, and he had that glassy look in his eyes. "Maybe I should disappear for a while," he quavered.

"No, you shouldn't," Myrkrid rebutted him, and restrained him with a wing. "Tannlaus, this is Dimmadreki."

The other Night Fury immediately figured out what was going on; he favored Dimmadreki with a toothy snarl. Then he turned back to Myrkrid. "What happened to 'us'?" he asked. "We were a couple for life, weren't we?"

"You broke that when you let yourself fall under the sway of that Monster," she retorted, and Dimmadreki heard some pain in her voice. "There could never be an 'us' after that. I didn't dare go near you! I still don't dare!"

Tannlaus looked hurt. "Don't tell me you've fallen for that propaganda! That's just a lot of envy from dragons who wish they could rule a nest like the Titan does, but can't do it! The Titan has stopped all the fighting that usually happens when a hundred dragons get together. We've got shelter, we've got food... what else could a dragon ask for?"

"How about freedom?" she shot back. "How about not being forced to attack the humans and steal their food, and then give it all to your Monster? How about being allowed to live our lives in peace, instead of going to war against the Vikings when we have no quarrel with them? How about seeing an end to the useless deaths and injuries you suffer whenever you swoop down on those spear-filled villages? And how about an end to the poor dragons who get _eaten alive_ when they don't keep your so-called Titan happy?"

"That's a lie!" Tannlaus exclaimed. He turned suspiciously on Dimmadreki. "Did you teach her all this nonsense?"

"_She's_ the one who taught it to _me_," he said nervously.

"Then be smart, and fold your ear flaps down before she fills you with her poison," the other Night Fury growled. The other dragons were edging away from this uncomfortable scene. "Myrkrid, I'm willing to forgive you for leaving me, and I'll even think about taking you back, but you have _got_ to stop spreading this vicious propaganda! You've gotten worse since the last time I saw you."

"It's not happening," she replied heatedly. "Even if you weren't under that Monster's control, I'm very happy with the mate I've got. You and I could have had a future together, but you traded it away for the slavery that you call 'peace.' Some decisions can't be undone."

She was about to say more when a low bellow rose from inside the volcano. All the local dragons scattered; Myrkrid was right behind them; but Dimmadreki couldn't help taking a curious look inside the cone.

The largest dragon he had ever imagined was quickly rising to the top of the volcano, and for a moment, he gazed straight into its eyes.

**o**

_A/N_

"_Tannlaus" is Icelandic for "toothless."_


	16. Chapter 16

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 16

He felt a wave of horror as that huge head came up level with his own. Myrkrid had warned him not to look in the Monster's eyes, and now he couldn't break eye contact. The three eyes on the right side of its head, each nearly the size of his own head, gazed back at him with an impossible mix of hatred, contempt, and sincere concern.

"No one told me I had a guest," she rumbled. "That was rude; I'll have to speak to my servants about that. But it's been a very long time since a Night Fury has joined me. Please come in and make yourself comfortable. We've got plenty of room, you'll make lots of new friends, and I'm sure you have many interesting stories to tell me."

"If you don't mind," he quavered, "I'd rather stay outside."

Those eyes glared at him, focusing on him the way he used to focus in on some ornate engraving project in the forge. "I _said,_ please come in!"

"I hope I'm not being rude, but I'm really enjoying the fresh air, and it smells kind of stuffy down there." He was ready to leap and fly, but unsure if that would do any good if the huge creature tried to chase him. An incongruous thought hit him. _If this child of Tannin is __this__ big, then how big was Tannin?_

"_Why_ won't you _obey_ me?!" she demanded.

"I really don't think that's in my own best interests," he stammered.

Those eyes bored in on him for another moment; then they blinked, and the huge dragon backed off. Now she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and amazement. "I can't control you! This has never happened before. Could you be the Worthy One?"

"I don't understand," he said hesitantly.

"Before Tannin returned to the skies, she predicted that we Titans would rule over all dragonkind, but our triumph would not be complete until a Worthy One arose. We would know him because we'd be unable to influence him, the way we influence all the others. Once we befriended that Worthy One and saw him ruling at our side, nothing could hold us back. I think you might be that Worthy One."

"Uhh... uhh... with all due respect, I think you got Tannin's words wrong. She predicted someone who would make you regret controlling the other dragons."

The Monster snorted, letting out a thick puff of smoke that blocked his view of her for a moment. "Oh, you mean that nonsense about one who is a dragon and not a dragon? That version of the story has been totally distorted, because it's been passed down through dozens of species over hundreds of generations. How could someone be a dragon _and_ not a dragon? Is a dragon going to breed with a human, or maybe a dolphin, and create a hybrid? No, my small but brave friend; what I just told you is the truth. I know it's true because it has come down to me through a bare handful of generations, so it could not have been distorted by time. We Titans live long and breed slowly; my grandfather knew the very first Titan, and was only three generations removed from Tannin herself. There are only six of us in the world today, soon to be seven from what I hear, and all of us are hoping to find the Worthy One. Today, you came to _me!_ I am blessed above all other dragons!

"So join me, Worthy One. Rule beside me as the King of the Dragons. The ones who might fear me will not fear you; you can persuade them to join us. They will bring us the offerings we deserve, so you need never hunt your own food again. We'll move our nest every few decades, as I have always done, collecting more and more servants until all the dragons are united under us! We can subdue the humans, or we can wipe them out if we –"

"No!" he shouted. "Myrkrid told the truth – you _are_ a monster! I'll never serve you!"

"Indeed?" The threatening rumble of her voice rose in volume. "Perhaps, in order for you to fear my power, you need to _feel_ my power!" The huge maw opened and began to fill with a sickly yellowish smoke, and Dimmadreki knew it was time to go.

He jumped backwards, put his head down, and dove, hugging the wall of the volcano until he could build up some speed. He heard a deafening roar from right behind him; he rolled and broke left, and felt the heat on his right from a shaft of flame that was bigger around than he was. The flame left a trail of thick black smoke, and he used that smoke to hide in as he leveled off and headed out to sea, flapping for all he was worth.

"You'll be back!" the Monster roared. "You can't help yourself! It's your destiny! And you will rule the world beside me... or you will _die!_" He didn't dare look back. He had to find Myrkrid. Where had she gone? He tried to remember which way she'd flown when the Monster appeared. There was nothing in sight in that direction, not even a tide-submerged rock.

He glanced back at the sea stacks. There she was, hiding behind a particularly thick rock, looking up at him. He reversed course and spiraled down to join her. She cringed and backed away.

"Stay back!" she cried. "She's enslaved you, too! I'll never join you, no matter what you –"

"Myrkrid, it's me! She didn't enslave me!"

"Of course she did!" his mate shouted. "That's what she does when you look in her eyes, and you were looking right at her!" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I warned you! I warned you! _Why didn't you listen?_ Losing you is going to hurt most of all! Why did you have to –"

"Then don't lose me!" he ordered her. "Look in my eyes and tell me what you see!"

Hesitantly, she looked him in the eye. She went wide-eyed; she stepped closer until their noses were almost touching. "It's you," she said, in a voice full of wonder. "You're still free! She didn't get you! How..."

"It must be because her power only works on dragons," he realized. "I've still got a human mind inside this dragon body, so she can't control me."

She laid her head against his and let out a huge sigh of relief. "Dimmadreki, just for once, I'm glad you used to be a human." They enjoyed a quick tender moment. Then she pulled away. "Now let's get out of here, before she decides to chase you."

He slowly shook his head. "Myrkrid, I can't do that."

"_What?!_ What kind of crazy issue have you come up with this time?"

"You've seen those dragons! They're intelligent, they have personalities… they're just as much persons as the Vikings in Berk! How do you think I feel, seeing them enslaved by that Monster?"

"Dimmadreki, we've been through this! I hate seeing them that way, too, but there is not one thing we can do about it! We can't fight a Monster!"

He braced himself, not sure if he really believed what he was about to say. "But don't you see? _I_ can fight her! _I'm the one Tannin predicted_ – I'm the one who's a dragon and not a dragon! I've got a body that you once called the most powerful dragon in existence, and a human mind that the Monster can't control! I'm the one who can take her down... and I'm the one who wants to!"

She sat down weakly and shook her head. "I don't believe this. Are you trying to set a world record for delusions of grandeur? You've been a dragon for less than a month, and you're appointing yourself to be the fulfillment of our oldest prophecy? Are you _serious?_"

"Yes," he answered confidently. She saw a rock-solid confidence in his eyes that had never been there before.

"Okay," she nodded slowly. "I'll admit, it's not completely impossible, but you're forgetting one small detail: maybe the Monster can't control you, but she can _kill_ you! That fire shot didn't miss you by much, in case you didn't notice. You can't possibly fight her alone!"

He gazed back at her. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to fight her alone."

Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head hard. "_Oh,_ no! That's not happening! I'm carrying a Night Fury egg, remember? Preserving the species, creating the next generation, and all kinds of other good stuff like that? I can't go into a battle against a Monster, not even for you. I'll be killed, and my unhatched child will die too, along with all the eggs I might have laid in the future."

Her voice softened. "Dimmadreki, how many times are you going to put me through this? How many times do I have to remind you how much your son is going to need you? How many times do I have to remind you how much _I_ need you? _Why_ is it so hard for you to think of the ones who love you first?"

Her words hit him hard. For a few seconds, he didn't even try to answer. At last, he said, "Part of it is because I'm still not used to being loved. But most of it is because there are a hundred or more intelligent creatures in that volcano, and nobody is thinking about them except me. No one in the world even cares about them, except me! Myrkrid, do you know what it's like to have no one in the world care about you? I do. I'm the only creature in existence who even wants to try to do something for them. If I fly away to save my own skin, or for any other reason, I'll be denying everything I've ever lived for.

He stepped closer to her. "I'm sorry, but this is bigger than you and me, and it's bigger than our child. This goes to the very heart of who I am. I understand if you can't join me. I don't expect you to understand why I have to do this. But please believe me – I _have_ to do this."

She sighed, sniffed, and turned away. "I guess I should have seen that coming. I'll tell your son that you were stupid, but very brave." She glanced at him one more time, then bounded into the sky and flew away to the south without looking back.

_Okay, Dimmadreki, you've really done it now,_ he thought. _You've thrown away the only one who ever loved you, and you don't even have a plan to achieve what you threw her away for!_ He slumped to the ground, trying to think of some way to take down a creature that could swallow him whole. Just thinking at all was difficult. It took him over an hour to come up with something that might be useful, and "might be useful" wasn't good enough. Not here. Not now.

_Will those dragons care what I'm trying to do for them? If I succeed, will they even say "thank you," or will they just high-tail it out of here as fast as they can? If I fail, will anyone ever know? Why am I doing this?_

_Because it's the right thing to do. I've always lived that way, and if I have to die that way… I guess there are worse ways to go. That's my final answer. I'll take a stand on it, even though I'm fighting completely alone. I hope that answer is good enough._

At last, as the sun began to set, he decided he was as ready as he ever would be . His plan was only half-formed; he figured that the Monster would play the game her own way, and a plan that was too rigidly formed would quickly become useless. If he was going to have to wing it anyway, he'd start by planning to wing it, so he wouldn't be shocked when it happened.

It would help if he knew more about Monsters, but apparently, no one knew much of anything about them. They probably had the same weaknesses as any other dragon, the eyes and the wings. He'd gotten a good look at her eyelids; they were as heavily armored as the rest of her. Only a direct hit would do one of those eyes any harm, and a direct hit against a small target like that, on a fast-moving dragon in the air, was just about impossible. Even if he succeeded, she'd still have five more eyes. No, it had to be the wings. He hadn't actually seen her wings, but she had to have them or she couldn't have reached the top of the volcano to talk to him. They were surely tougher than any other dragon's wings, but they couldn't be armored or she wouldn't be able to fly. He knew his fires could hurt those wings. The question was, could he hurt them enough, and could he do it before she caught him with her own fires?

It was time to gamble his life against the freedom of a hundred total strangers, in a game he had never played before, against an unknown but fearsome-looking opponent who would probably change the rules as soon as he gained an advantage. _I must be an idiot,_ he thought, and rose off the ground toward the volcano's cone.

"Monster!" he bellowed into the cone. "I know you can hear me! I'm back, just like you said I would be! I know you're afraid of me! And you _should_ be! You told me there are five others like you, and they all want to rule the dragons! There can only be _one_ ruler over all, right? Well, I'm going to find one of your sisters who will give me a better offer than just a mouthful of fish! I'm going to ally with _that_ dragon, help _her_ rule the world, and where will that leave _you?_ **Nowhere!** See you later!"

He waited for a response, and he didn't have to wait long. He heard an ear-stunning bellow, much louder than the first one, and he saw something huge and dark rising up toward him. He spun on one wing and dove to build up some speed. He risked a glance over his shoulder, and watched as the huge bulk of the Monster heaved herself out of the cone, looked around for him, and dove at him with unbelievable speed. He'd seen her head, and he thought he knew how large she would be, but his mind wasn't prepared for the reality of how _big_ she was.

_Maybe this wasn't such a great idea,_ he thought. But it was way too late to back out now.


	17. Chapter 17

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 17

_A/N  
As of Chapter 16, this story has exceeded 15,500 hits and is now one of my Top Ten stories, in terms of popularity. I offer a sincere "thank you" to everyone who has read the story and helped make it so popular, and a double "thank you" to the sources of the 400-plus favorites, follows, and reviews I've received._

_And to Lovesbugsalot, who sent a review that consisted of the words "Naw fig": nobody has any idea what you meant, but I've been saying "Naw fig" to all my friends all day, which is confusing the bejeebers out of them, and that's fun, so thank you, I guess. I prefer reviews that I can understand, though._

**o**

Dimmadreki steepened his dive and plunged toward the sea stacks, with the Monster in close pursuit. He swooped under a substantial-looking arch. Would she follow him? Would she get stuck? If she did, it would almost be too easy, but he'd take it. He really didn't think she'd try to fit through that archway.

She did try. Her head barely fit; her shoulders struck the rock, and shattered it with a sound like a nearby clap of thunder. Huge chunks of rock flew everywhere. It didn't even slow her down. He flew through another stone archway, and she destroyed that one too. _So much for Plan A_.

"You don't think you can outfight someone who has lived for four hundred years, do you?" she roared. "You might be Worthy, but you're not immortal! End this chase, land on the volcano, and swear your obedience to me, and you'll live to fulfill your destiny. Fight me, and I will either burn you alive, or _eat _you alive!"

_I'll fulfill my destiny, all right,_ he thought, _but I'll do it __my__ way!_ He flipped his tail and raced for the sky. She curved upward and followed him. Another tail-flip, and he was headed back toward the volcano. For a moment, she hesitated behind him, unsure if he meant to land and give up, but her uncertainty quickly faded. He was moving far too fast to land. He raced toward the cone, pulling up at the last moment to avoid colliding with it. She pulled up sooner, and avoided the collision he was trying to trick her into. _So much for Plan B_. He was running out of ideas fast. He was also running out of daylight; he had to finish this quickly, before it became too dark to…

_Wait a minute_…

What had Myrkrid told him about Night Fury vision, back on the island of the Changewings? Maybe running out of daylight wouldn't be such a bad thing.

He was roused from his meditation by a hideous rushing sound from just behind him. He threw himself into a tight barrel roll, then snapped upward into an inverted loop, just in time to let another huge shaft of flame pass beneath him. He straightened out his flight path and headed for the clouds, with the Monster still close behind him. "It's no use going up there!" she shouted. "You can't hide! I can hear you and I can smell you! Surrender while you can! I only have to hit you once!"

_But first, you have to hit me_. He reached the bottom of the cloud layer, made a quick zigzag in case she tried to flame him again before he disappeared, and felt the tiny concealing particles of moisture all over him. For a while, at least, she couldn't see him. She might be able to hear him or smell him, but he'd minimize that by gliding as much as possible and not getting too close to her. The critical question was, could _he_ see _her?_

He looked all around. There, somewhat behind him and three hundred feet below him, was a blurry but recognizable silhouette. He couldn't make out her eyes or any other features, but it was easy to tell her head from her tail, and her wings were clearly visible. Huge leathery sails. Targets.

He made a quick battle plan. He saw which way she was flying. He mentally mapped a flight path that would let him strike her repeatedly and regain altitude with a minimum of flapping, took a deep breath, sparked a firebolt, and dove.

His first shot struck near the root of her left wing. She roared with rage. "Come out and fight, you little morsel! I can outlast you! I can stay in the air longer than you ever could!" _That's about to change_, he thought. He looped under her, glided and half-flapped to regain his altitude, and dove on her again. This shot hit her halfway out on the right wing. He was choosing specific targets as he dove; he couldn't pick his marks in advance because he couldn't count on her to fly a straight, predictable course.

After five hits, she lost her composure and roared. It wasn't any kind of speech; it was a bellow of pain. She drew in a huge breath and spat out flame in every direction, hoping to hurt him by the sheer volume of her fire. He nearly flew head-first into it; only a wild maneuver enabled him to miss it, and it still burned his tail painfully. The real harm was that she'd thrown him off his carefully planned flight path. He'd have to flap hard to get back into the battle, and she could probably hear him and home in on him if he did that. If he didn't flap, he'd eventually glide out of the clouds, and that would be the end of that. It looked like he'd gambled and lost.

Then he saw a flash, and heard the Monster scream again. _What in the name of_…? He looked up, and barely saw another silhouette, small and fast-moving. The Monster's silhouette changed its aspect; she was turning to close in on her new assailant. He seized the moment to flap and climb until he was on the same level as his newly-discovered comrade in arms.

"Myrkrid! You came back!"

"Don't talk! Shoot!" she ordered, and turned to the right.

"Shoot her wings!" he called back. He banked to the left, waited until he saw the flash of his mate's next attack, then dove and blew yet another hole in the Monster's wing. Working in tandem, they swiftly shredded every one of their enemy's major wingsail surfaces. She might not even realize that there were two of them; she repeatedly tried to close in on her most recent assailant, rather than track down one or the other of them. The next time he saw Myrkrid nearby, he whispered, "It's time! She's about to go down. We can't let her glide down – she has to dive!"

"How are we going to make her do that?" Myrkrid asked quietly.

"Live bait," he answered. "Get up above the clouds and stay clear; this is the really dangerous part."

"I'm already in this a lot further than I wanted to be," she replied. "I'm not leaving you now."

"Then follow me!" He pushed over into a dive, and allowed the wind to whistle across his sub-wings. The Monster would hear that and know what it meant. He was counting on it. He heard the wind on his mate's sub-wings just behind him. They whipped past their enemy's huge mouth, and felt a blast of air pull them back as she tried to inhale them. They were moving too fast for that. "What's the matter, old woman?" Dimmadreki taunted her. "Can't you handle a couple of small dragons?"

"_You_ are going to _die_, Worthless One!" she screamed, put her head down, and followed her tiny opponents as they plunged earthward.

The Night Furies' wings were whistling at full volume now; they needed every bit of wing surface to avoid tumbling out of control, especially Dimmadreki, who felt pain with each motion of his burned tail. The holes in the Monster's wings were whistling as well, but she didn't seem to notice. They burst out of the clouds, and she quickly homed in on them. "I'll kill you!" she screamed. "_I'll kill you both!_" She swiveled her head toward the closest Night Fury, which was Myrkrid, and Dimmadreki heard that hideous rushing sound again.

His mate wasn't looking behind her! Of course she wasn't – she didn't dare look in their enemy's eyes. He made a quick spin, ignoring the pain in his tail, and fired one more desperate shot straight into the Monster's mouth. He wasn't sure what would happen, but he had to _do_ something! His shot burst just before the Monster exhaled her fires, igniting them prematurely, and the conflagration set fire to some of the gases she hadn't yet exhaled. With flames streaming out of her mouth, she plunged downward, ever faster, ever closer to them.

Dimmadreki glanced away from her, toward the ground… and the ground was _way_ too close! "Pull out!" he screamed, not caring if the Monster heard him. He broke left, Myrkrid broke right, and the Monster realized, with a scream of terror, that she could not pull out of her dive. They'd perforated her wings in too many places. With a final cry of despair, she slammed face-first into the ground, and all her fiery gases ignited at once.

With a huge fireball and a blast louder than any clap of thunder, the most feared dragon in the Northland met her end. The cloud of black smoke that marked her final resting place rose up in the air and folded in on itself until it looked like a dark mushroom.

The two Night Furies circled the spot. They were buffeted when the shock wave from the explosion hit them. They waited until the smoke dissipated; then they landed next to the ruined remains of the Monster. They didn't get too close; even in death, they feared her. They were both puffing from the exertion of their battle in the air.

"We did it," Myrkrid finally gasped. "We actually did it."

"You came back," Dimmadreki forced himself to say. "Why?"

She steadied her breathing and gazed into his eyes. "Because I realized that, for the first time in my life, I'd found someone who meant more to me than propagating the species did." They closed their eyes and rested their heads against each other in silence.

That silence was broken by the most extraordinary cacophony they'd ever heard. It was the sound of over a hundred dragons bursting out of their nest, feeling and knowing freedom for the first time in years. Some just flew away from that place as quickly as they could. Some turned loops and spins and Immelman turns and any other maneuver they could think of. Some flew over the dead Monster and released their droppings. Some flew down to sea level to catch fish, knowing that they could finally eat whatever they caught. And a few, including Tannlaus, landed near Dimmadreki and Myrkrid.

"Did you do this?" the newly-freed Night Fury asked.

"We're still in a daze, but... yes, we did this," Myrkrid replied.

Tannlaus shook his head vigorously. "All those years in slavery, and I never even knew it... now I understand why you had to leave me. What you two did today is going to be passed down to the next generation, and the one after that, for as long as any of us are alive! I still don't understand..." Then he wrenched his eyes off of Myrkrid to stare at Dimmadreki. "Are you the one that Tannin told us about? Are you the one who's a dragon and not a dragon? Is that how you did it?"

"Well, all the votes haven't been counted yet," he said embarrassedly, "but I know I'm a dragon with the mind of a human, and I know the Monster couldn't enslave me or control me, so... it's possible."

"It has to be him," Myrkrid added. "No other dragon could do what he did today."

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said.

"I couldn't have done it at all," she came back. "I'm sorry I doubted you earlier. I'm convinced now – you're the one who's going to set all the dragons free, one nest at a time." The other dragons cheered and stamped their feet, adding a few puffs of flame to their adulation.

Dimmadreki was stunned and slightly embarrassed. He'd come a long way from Hiccup the Useless!

"Will you tell us your story?" a young Zippleback asked eagerly. "It must be amazing."

"That could take hours," Dimmadreki began.

"...and we can't stay that long," Myrkrid finished. "We have to find a safe place to live until it's time to lay our egg."

"Why not stay right here?" he countered. "This nest is safe now. We've _made_ it safe." She glanced up at the top of the cone, and nodded.

Suddenly, they were distracted by the sound of dragons fighting. Two Gronckles were about to attack each other for some reason; they were circling each other and looking for rocks to eat. They were on the verge of lunging at each other when a firebolt burst between them. Tannlaus strode up to them angrily.

"For Tannin's sake, you two!" he burst out. "This is your day of independence! You're free! Can't you think of a better way to celebrate than getting into a stupid fight? Go catch some fish or something." The two lumpy dragons pulled back from each other, made some threatening noises, and went their separate ways. Tannlaus turned back to the other dragons.

"I'll admit, I'm going to miss the peaceful nest that the Monster enforced. That's about the only good thing she ever did, and she did it by using her power over us, but without her, we're probably going to revert to squabbling and fighting over every little thing. That's how we live."

"Does it have to be that way?" Dimmadreki asked. "You just did a nice job of ending that fight. Why don't _you_ keep peace in the nest?"

"You mean, become another Monster? No, thanks!"

"No, don't be a Monster! Be a servant-leader," Dimmadreki explained. "You're a Night Fury; you've got the intelligence that the other dragons lack. You'll catch your own fish, like any self-respecting dragon, and fish is _all_ you'll eat. You won't bully anyone or force anyone to do anything. But if the dragons have problems, they would agree to bring them to you instead of fighting, with the understanding that your decision is final. If they do fight, you obviously have a talent for breaking them up. You could be just what this nest needs."

Tannlaus looked dumbfounded. "That's quite a promotion you're asking me to accept."

"Hey, if I can adjust to the idea of freeing the dragons all over the world, then you can adjust to leading one nest, can't you?"

"I suppose," Tannlaus nodded. "But there's one other question I have to ask." He turned to Myrkrid. "Now that I'm not enslaved any more, is there any way that you and I could ever...?"

"No." She shook her head firmly. "With you and me, it was nothing but our obligation to our species. I liked you then, and I like you now, but that's all. With Dimmadreki, it started as obligation, but now... I love him. That's the end of the story."

"I understand," he nodded sadly. "Love is special. It doesn't happen very often among our kind. I won't mess with that. I wish you both the best."

"Thank you," she nodded. "We're going to need those best wishes before we're done."

The Night Fury couple caught themselves some fish to replace the energy they'd used up during their life-or-death battle, found an unoccupied ledge in the volcano that was big enough for two, and began adjusting to living in a nest. It was Dimmadreki's first real experience being surrounded by dragons for any length of time, but after all the changes he'd already been through, adjusting to this one was almost easy. There were a few fights here and there, but Tannlaus broke those up quickly, and the other dragons began adjusting to the fact that a Night Fury was now in charge.

Dimmadreki found it awkward to even chat socially with his mate's ex. Tannlaus did nothing to make him uncomfortable, and after a few days, he realized that the older Night Fury meant no ill will toward him. If the circumstances had been different, maybe they could have been close friends. Perhaps, given enough time, they might become friends anyway.

Once the other dragons of the nest learned who was responsible for their sudden freedom, they couldn't thank him enough. Some of them wept in frustration when they recalled the things they'd been forced to do, and the friends they'd seen die, now that their minds no longer belonged to someone else. All of them tried their best to express their gratitude to Dimmadreki. He found that the less-intelligent breeds, like the Gronckles and Nightmares, expressed themselves in simpler and more heart-felt terms than the smarter Nadders and Zipplebacks, who struggled to find the perfect words to say. He found the whole thing slightly embarrassing; he was used to getting attention only when he'd messed something up.

"If you're right about your destiny, then you'd better get used to this kind of treatment," Myrkrid cautioned him. "There are five more nests out there, all full of dragons who are going to be just as thankful when you liberate them. Maybe more than five; we don't know anything about the Bewilderbeasts and how they run their nests."

The two of them spent much of that first night telling their life's stories to the other dragons. They had a rapt audience who asked many questions. It wasn't possible to tell the entire story in one night. In fact, they weren't even finished after two nights. In fact, over two weeks later, they were still relating some of the details when a sudden urge came over almost every dragon in the nest, and they went flying away to the northwest, to a secret location that all of them except Dimmadreki seemed to know about.


	18. Chapter 18

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 18

_A/N  
Thank you again, readers, for another milestone. The posting of Chapter 17 resulted in this story's first 1000-hit day. I wish this could go on forever, but unfortunately, this story will soon reach its conclusion._

**o**

After half a day's flying, the great flock of dragons approached a small, rocky island in the middle of the northern sea. It was shaped like an irregular circle, with a shallow lagoon occupying most of the middle. From above, parts of the island seemed to be alive and moving on their own, until Dimmadreki realized that those parts were completely covered in dragons. This island must be the hatching ground for more than one nest.

"Follow me in," Myrkrid told him, "and stay close to me." She seemed to know what she was doing, and he had no clue, so he did as she said. They found an unoccupied patch of bare rocks about three dragon-lengths from the shore and landed together.

"Okay, we're here. What happens next?" he asked her.

"We wait until I'm ready," she replied as she folded her wings. "The shoreline is for the dragons who are about to lay. I've got another day or so before I'll be ready to lay our egg, so we'll stay here until it's time, and hope a space by the water opens up."

"That's because the eggs explode, right?"

"Yes – you've got it!" she smiled. "As soon as our little one hatches, we'll move to the highlands and make room for another mother who's ready to lay. That's when _your_ work begins."

"And what is my work?"

"Feeding our baby," she answered, as though it was obvious. "I'll have to keep him out of trouble and make sure the big dragons don't step on him by accident. Your job is to find fish small enough for him to eat, and bring them back to him. We'll change places now and then, so I can get off this rock for a few minutes."

"And so I can bond with my son, right?" he asked.

"When you fly back from a fishing trip and see him waiting for you on the shore, and you realize that he associates you with food and life, that's all the bonding you'll ever need," she smiled. "Some fathers just cough up the fish and go, but I know you – you'll put more into the father/son relationship than that. That boy is going to have something that a lot of dragons don't have: a real father."

Dimmadreki was speechless. He'd grown up pretty much without a real father; his dad never had time for him and never understood him. Myrkrid certainly had a lot of confidence that he'd do a better job of fatherhood than his own father had done. At the very least, he vowed not to make the same mistakes his own dad had made. Inventing new ways to do things wrong had always been his specialty, anyway.

"One more question. How can you be so sure it's going to be a boy?"

"I don't know for sure," she replied, "but my last four eggs all hatched into girls, so I'm long overdue for a boy. Wouldn't you prefer a son?"

"I never really thought about it," he admitted. "A few months ago, fatherhood wasn't even an option for me, and since then, I've been kind of busy learning new things."

"It's more than an option for you now; it's impending reality." She lay down and stretched out on the rocks. "Of course, there's nothing either of us can do about it. Get some rest while you can. After tomorrow, you'll get no rest at all for weeks, maybe months, depending on how much of a handful our little one turns out to be." He took her advice, and they fell asleep together in the cold air and the warm sunlight.

Other dragons' eggs started hatching early the next day. A mother dragon would notice her eggs beginning to rock back and forth, and she would roll them downhill with her nose into the warm waters of the lagoon. Within a minute or so, there would be series of bright flashes and muted blasts from underwater, a cloud of bubbles would rise, and one tiny dragon after another would break the surface and take their first breaths. Then they would swim for the shore, inerrantly aiming for their mother. The father would flap down from the highlands to join her if he wasn't there already, and they would greet their new children at the waterline. Other dragons would also gather to check out the new arrivals and congratulate the parents. After a few minutes of this, the father would head out to sea in search of fish for his new family, while the mother would herd the hatchlings up to the highlands, making room by the water for another female who was ready to lay. It all took place as though choreographed. The dragons had been doing this for a long, long time.

Something else he noticed was that the dragons' natural belligerence was nowhere to be seen. A few of the males got into noisy shoving matches in the highlands, but along the shore, where the competition for limited space should have brought out the most aggressiveness, there were no fights whatsoever. The females were completely fixated on what they'd come here to do, and allowed nothing to distract them.

One of those male shoving-matches showed him another remarkable fact. A pair of Nadders, one blue and one olive-green, were about to attack each other when Dimmadreki flew by; he was hoping to get lucky and find a few fish big enough for Myrkrid and himself to eat. As soon as the Nadders saw him, they drew apart and the fight ended. He realized that Tannlaus had been doing such an effective job of breaking up fights that the fighters gave up at the sight of a Night Fury, even if it wasn't the same Night Fury. He mentioned this to Myrkrid when he returned (without any fish).

"Nests can be rough places to live," she commented. "The Monsters enforced peace through mind control, but none of us thought that kind of peace was worth the cost. Maybe the Night Furies can bring peace to the various nests and make all the other dragons behave. If that's the case, then that's another aspect of your legacy to the dragons, and that's almost as important as setting them free." She rubbed noses with him. "When I got involved with you, I had no idea you'd be so important!"

Around midday, a Zippleback mother walked away from the shore, carrying her three tiny children on her back as she made her way to a place high on the rocks. "I think we ought to take her spot by the water," Myrkrid suggested. "It won't be much longer." Dimmadreki saw a Nadder striding toward the empty space by the shore, so he bounded into the air and landed to claim the space about five seconds before the Nadder got there.

She hissed her displeasure at him. "Do you think you need a place more than I do?" she demanded. "I could lay at any moment!"

"My mate could lay at any moment, too," he retorted. This Nadder was a lot bigger than he was, not to mention a lot angrier, and he wasn't sure he understood all the nuances of dragon etiquette. All he knew for sure was that his mate was on the verge of laying her egg – _their_ egg – and he wasn't taking any chances. After a tense few seconds, the Nadder saw another place open up on the other side of the lagoon, and glided across the water to claim that spot as her own. He lowered his guard as Myrkrid joined him a second later.

"You can relax a little," she smiled. "We'll be okay. I've done this before."

"I haven't," he answered.

"How do I keep forgetting that?" she exclaimed, hitting herself in the head with her wing. "You've turned into such a normal Night Fury, and most males your age have fathered at least half a dozen young ones by now... well, anyway, there's nothing to stress about. There's no pain involved; we just wait, then it happens, then we wait some more, and then it _really_ happens."

"Okay, if you say so," he nodded, confused. "Did I do something seriously wrong a few seconds ago? How come all those dragons are staring at us?"

"It's probably because there haven't been any Night Furies on this island in years," she replied as she curled up and made herself comfortable. "A lot of these dragons have never even seen a Night Fury egg before. They're curious. Once I lay our egg, we're going to have all kinds of visitors."

"What about Tannlaus?" he asked. "Hasn't he come here before?"

"He was the only Night Fury in his nest until we came along," she said. "He couldn't leave his nest to look for a mate – the Monsters never let their servants go very far. While we're here, he's probably out searching for a single female... and, personally, I hope he finds one. He and I were incompatible in many ways, but he's a good dragon and I'd love to see him happy."

Suddenly, she winced and stood up. "We timed this perfectly – it's time! Please back off a few steps, Dimmadreki. It's nothing personal; it's just an instinct we females have. I'm going to be completely helpless for the next minute or two, and I don't want _anybody_ close to me." He backed away, and looked all around to make sure no one else was trying to get too close. She stood where she was, slowly rocking back and forth, breathing a little bit faster than usual. After about three minutes, she took a deep breath, lowered herself to the ground, grimaced for about five seconds, and stood up again.

There it was.

It was about seven inches long, shaped like a chicken's egg but slightly thinner in the middle, and as black as a new-moon night. She turned around to look at it, with a very pleased expression. "For six _years,_ I've waited..." She nudged it with her nose until it rolled into a small depression, so it couldn't roll away. Then she looked up at Dimmadreki. "What do you think?"

"Umm... wow." Until this morning, he'd never even _seen_ a dragon's egg before... and this was _his_ egg. Somewhere inside it was a tiny dragon that was half him and half her. He looked it over carefully, to conceal the fact that he was speechless. Finally he looked up and rubbed noses with her. "I think you do good work," he smiled.

"Thanks, but I _did_ have a _little_ help at the beginning," she grinned back. "We can relax now. Nothing is going to happen for about three days. Would you mind keeping an eye on things while I go for a quick flight? I'm tense all over; I need to stretch my wings." He nodded, and she bounded into the air and flapped nearly straight up. He turned back to the egg. It was beautiful. He felt like he could just stare at it for hours.

Then he realized he wasn't the only one staring at it. Five Gronckles were hovering overhead, two Nadders and a Thunderdrum were standing nearby, and they all were fixated on what Myrkrid had done. He curled up around the egg protectively.

"It's okay! We're just looking," one of the Gronckles exclaimed. "We never saw a Night Fury egg before."

"Did you say a Night Fury egg?" one head of a sleepy Zippleback exclaimed, which woke up the other head. Word spread rapidly; dragons began crowding in from all over the island, nearly trampling on other dragons who were waiting to lay. Freshly-laid eggs were at risk of getting stepped on, and the new mothers didn't think much of that. Dimmadreki realized he needed to do something before things turned really ugly.

He stood right over his egg and bellowed, "All of you! Listen up! If you want to see the Night Fury egg, you need to _fly_ over it, from east to west! The ground belongs to the mothers and the eggs! All you sightseers, up in the air! Now!" To his immense relief, they did what he'd told them to do. Tannlaus had laid a foundation of obedience to Night Furies, and the dragons were now willing to obey any Night Fury, as long as the request made sense. He curled up around the egg again, making sure it was visible from above, and remained vigilant as hundreds and hundreds of dragons glided slowly overhead at very low altitude. Most of them circled around for a second look; some came back for thirds.

When Myrkrid returned after about an hour, it took her a few seconds to figure out what was going on. Then she landed next to him. "Did you initiate this, or did the other dragons start it on their own?"

"I kind of started it, but we need to thank Tannlaus," he replied. "He's got them thinking that the Night Furies are in charge. I doubt they'd have listened to me if he hadn't laid that foundation."

"Still, it was a good idea," she decided as she lay down next to him. "I was worried whether something like this might happen." She rubbed noses with him. "You're shaping up into a good father already."

"Thank you for getting everyone into the air like that," the gravid Gronckle next to them added. "I never saw a mob scene like that before."

Dimmadreki turned to Myrkrid. "I've got a feeling we're going to have an even bigger mob scene when our little one hatches." She nodded, and motioned with her head for him to unwrap himself from around the egg, so she could wrap herself around it.

"Mother's prerogative," she smiled as she lay down on the rocks. "It's not that I don't trust you. You're obviously getting a handle on this 'fatherhood' stuff. But it's been six years since I hatched a baby, and I'm feeling very protective toward this one."

"Okay," he shrugged. "If you're going to be staying here regardless, would you mind if I went flying for a few hours?"

"You can't wait to get away from me?" she teased him.

"No, I thought I'd go south until I found some decent-sized fish, and bring a couple of them back for you."

_That_ surprised her. "Really? You don't just want to go flying for the sake of flying?"

"Well, I do," he admitted, "but I don't feel right about going off and leaving you for no reason. So I thought about it and came up with a good reason."

She sighed. "I _really_ need to thank whoever turned you into a dragon. Sure, go flying. Will you be back before sunset?"

"Yes, as long as a sea monster doesn't eat me," he grinned. They rubbed noses again and he leaped into the air. She watched him until he was out of sight.

He returned just as the sun touched the western sea, when most of the egg-sightseers had returned to their resting places. He brought back a huge tuna, almost too big for him to carry; he needed all four legs to hold onto it. He had to drop it so he could land. She eyed the fish and licked her chops.

"Are we sharing this?" she asked.

"I caught some cod on the way out, and ate my meal already," he said with a shake of the head. "This is all for you." That was all he had to say. The other females around them looked on enviously as she hungrily tore out chunks of tuna and swallowed them. She couldn't possibly eat all of it, but she assured him it would still be reasonably fresh the next morning, so it wouldn't go to waste.

"The only problem is that you're going to have a lot of male dragons angry at you," she decided as she finished her not-so-dainty meal. "The females can see you spoiling me rotten, and they're going to demand the same treatment from their own mates, but most dragons can't fly fast and far like you can. You're raising the bar on how a dragon should treat his mate during egg season."

"Should I treat you badly tomorrow, to help keep the peace?" he asked.

"Don't you dare!" she exclaimed. "I've never been spoiled rotten before, and I think I like it."

"Good thing," he nodded. "I don't think I could treat you badly, even if you wanted me to." He lay down and wrapped himself around her, and they were soon fast asleep. Someone made off with their tuna while they slept; they never found out who. But Myrkrid had gotten a huge meal out of it when she was expecting nothing, so it wasn't a dire loss.

The next day went pretty much the same as the first one, except that when Myrkrid took off to stretch her wings, she returned two and a half hours later with a fat Atlantic salmon in each front paw. "Two can play at that game," she smiled as she dropped them to Dimmadreki. "Enjoy!"

"You two are making me sick," the Gronckle next to them muttered. An hour later, she began laying the first of eleven eggs, which improved her mood considerably.

The next day passed in much the same way, as did most of the following day. But in mid-afternoon, Myrkrid suddenly awoke from her nap. "It's moving!" she exclaimed.

Dimmadreki quickly got up, allowing her to move freely. She rested her chin lightly on the egg. "Yes, it's moving," she decided. "Here we go!" Her teeth snapped in; she picked up the egg in her mouth, carried it to the waterline, and dropped it in with a "plunk." Dimmadreki stood nervously beside her.

"Now we wait," she said softly. "It usually takes less than a minute, but it could take longer." They waited.

After about five minutes, she turned to him. "Something's wrong. It shouldn't take this long."

"Maybe one of us should dive in and check on it?" he wondered.

Her response was something he'd never seen in her before: fear. "In the water? I… I can't do that! You can try… _please_ try… but I just can't." He recalled how close she'd come to dying the last time she'd been in the water. He couldn't swim any better than she could. But their egg was down there somewhere, possibly in distress…

"I'll try," he decided, took a deep breath, and plunged into the water with a huge splash.

Nearly a minute later, just as Myrkrid was getting really nervous, he burst to the surface, gasping for breath. He paddled to shore, pulled himself out, and lay flat on the rocks, exhausted. "The egg fell… into a hole," he panted. "Water was colder there. I moved it to… a warmer place."

"Is it going to be okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Don't know. Never did this before. We'll see." They resumed their vigil. They were rewarded seven minutes later by a flash of light from underwater and a sudden burst of bubbles. They held their breath…

…and there she was.

Myrkrid perched on the edge of the shore and leaned out to greet their little daughter. Dimmadreki was right next to his mate, still dripping from his own swim. The tiny dragon, less than a foot and a half long, made a beeline for her mother, swam right up to her, and rubbed noses with her even before she got out of the water. "Ma-ma!" she chirped.

"That's me," Myrkrid sighed. "Oh, you're beautiful! That's your papa." Dimmadreki bent down, and she rubbed noses with him as well. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a beautiful sight; he couldn't help smiling. He realized he was falling in love on the spot. Oh, well. She wasn't the first dragon who'd won his heart.

Then the Gronckle next to them called, "Hey, everyone! The Night Fury egg hatched!"

"Check her out from the air!" Dimmadreki shouted. "East to west, just like last time! By the way, it's a girl!" Myrkrid curled up protectively around her baby as the cloud of curious dragons began filing past. The little one was puzzled at being penned in by her mama, and tried several times to climb out; she didn't understand it was for her own protection. Dimmadreki stood next to them, growling if anyone tried to get too close, until his mate rapped him lightly on the side of the head with her tail.

"She's hungry," Myrkrid suggested. "Go do something about that, Daddy."

"I'm on my way," he said as he took wing. _I'm a daddy. I have a daughter. This is unbelievable. Of course, me being a dragon is still pretty unbelievable, too. My daughter is a black, scaly lizard... and she might be the prettiest thing I've ever seen._

He could see a few other dragons searching the sea for signs of small fish; he angled for an area that wasn't already taken. It took him about fifteen minutes to find a school of herring, a few seconds to stun them with a firebolt, and a few more minutes to scoop up enough with his mouth to make a decent meal for a tiny but hungry dragon. An orange-and-brown Typhoomerang pounced on the fish he left behind. When he got back to the island, the cloud of flying spectators was so thick above his family that he had to land a few yards away and walk to them.

The moment their tiny child saw him, she turned toward him, sat down, and opened her mouth wide for the fish she expected him to give her. _She totally trusts me,_ he thought. _She's completely dependent on me and Myrkrid to keep her fed and alive. That's an awesome responsibility._

_I will not let her down. I will be the father she needs and deserves. I swear it. _


	19. Chapter 19

**Dimmadreki** Chapter 19

"Don't forget to gather the eggs from the chickens before you go to the bakery, Fishlegs!"

"I won't forget, Mom!" he called. He had the egg basket in his hand, so there wasn't much chance of him forgetting. He was looking forward to today's work assignment; the head cook was going to show him how to bake muffins. Berk hadn't had a dedicated baker since a Gronckle got the last one; the cooks in the Mead Hall were happy to dump the baking chores on him, and he seemed to have an aptitude for it. The diners in the Mead Hall certainly weren't complaining. His demotion from warrior-in-training to apprentice baker might have been the luckiest thing that had happened to him in years.

He was brought up short by something he thought he would never see again. Large runes were written in the dirt in front of his house.

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT  
NIGHT FURIES? MEET US IN THE  
COVE, MIDNIGHT TONIGHT,  
ALONE

He quickly rubbed out the runes with his foot before someone else saw them. If today promised to be interesting, then tonight was going to be the living end!

He learned his lessons at work as best he could. Three times in a row, he took the muffins out of the oven too early; it was a reflection of how eager he was for time to pass. At last, his work day was ended, supper was done, his chores at home were finished, he'd acquired a lantern and made sure it was full of oil this time, and there was nothing to do except wait in his room for midnight to come.

He listened to make sure everyone else in the house was asleep, eased the front door open, slipped outside, closed the door behind him, took four steps, and nearly walked head-first into a huge man who was standing in front of him in the dark. Not many men could look down on Fishlegs, but this one could.

"Going for a walk in the dead of night, young man?" he rumbled. "Perhaps to a certain cove, to learn more about a certain kind of dragon?"

Fishlegs was dumbstruck. "Uhhh... uhhh..."

_"____Nothing_ happens on this island without me hearing about it," the big man said, with a hint of menace in his voice. "So let's talk about that dragon."

**o**

"You're sure he'll show?" Myrkrid asked.

"He'll be here, as sure as I'm a Night Fury," Dimmadreki replied. "I think I see his lantern, off to the right." She saw the speck of light a moment later and nodded. About a minute later, Fishlegs stepped hesitantly through the entrance into the cove. He paused and swung the lantern from side to side until he saw it reflected in two pairs of great green eyes.

"Dimmadreki! Myrkrid! You _did_ come back!" He walked toward them, almost confidently; he wasn't completely used to dragons at close range, even though he trusted this pair. He stopped when he was just close enough to see them by the light of his lamp. He pulled a fish out of his pocket and tossed it to Myrkrid, who had been expecting it. "Before you say anything... I mean write anything... there's something I have to tell you. I didn't come alone."

Dimmadreki translated for his mate, who suddenly snarled and assumed a defensive stance. Fishlegs backed off in a hurry. "It wasn't my idea, honest! Somebody else saw the runes you left for me! There was nothing I could do!"

WHO ELSE IS HERE?

Fishlegs turned back toward the cove entrance. "Sir, they want to know who's there."

Stoick the Vast stepped hesitantly into the cove. He lit his lantern from Fishlegs', located the dragons by the reflections from their eyes, and very cautiously approached them. Dimmadreki told Myrkrid who he was; she didn't relax at all. She'd heard how Hiccup's father had treated him in the past.

"Hiccup? Are you there? Is that... you?"

Dimmadreki was filled with conflicting emotions. He hadn't seen his father in months. His dad was the only Viking in Berk whom he'd missed, even a little bit. But the past was in the past. Dimmadreki looked at this huge human and saw his father, who never had time for him, and who was also a dragon-slayer. Things could never be the same.

HI, DAD

The lantern was shaking, mostly because the huge hand that held it was also shaking. "Is that really you, Hiccup?" he hoarsely whispered.

IT'S ME. BUT I'M  
DIMMADREKI NOW.  
EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT

"Why didn't you ever come home?"

CATAPULTS, NETS, SPEARS,  
SWORDS, HAMMERS, THAT  
BOLA ON YOUR BELT THAT  
YOU SHOULD DROP IF YOU  
WANT THIS MEETING TO BE  
PEACEFUL... SHALL I GO ON?

The bola thudded to the ground after a moment. "Son... we can work this out somehow! There has to be a way. Maybe I could hire a _seid-kona_ to help you get better!"

NO, DAD.  
I'M GLAD I'M A DRAGON.  
I'M LOVED, I'M RESPECTED,  
AND I'VE STOPPED THE  
DRAGON RAIDS FOREVER

_That_ got Stoick's full attention. "You... you did _what?_ How did you do that?"

THE DRAGONS WERE FORCED  
TO RAID BY A MONSTER DRAGON.  
MY MATE AND I KILLED IT, SO  
THE DRAGONS WON'T BE BACK

"If that's true... then it's my ultimate dream, but... _you_ ended the raids?"

I'M NOT SO USELESS ANYMORE.  
BY THE WAY, WE ALSO BROKE UP  
AN OUTCAST INVASION A FEW  
WEEKS AGO

The chief shook his head in confusion. "You... did all that? I'm not prepared for this! I need to stop and think." He stepped back. Fishlegs used the opportunity to get closer to the Night Furies. Dimmadreki sniffed him quickly for fish, and made a disappointed face when he realized that his human friend didn't have any more.

"I'm sorry, I only brought one for Myrkrid," Fishlegs stammered. "It's kind of a bribe to keep me safe, and I never thought I had to bribe you for anything."

THAT'S OKAY, I'M NOT THAT HUNGRY

Then the Night Fury winked at him.

I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE.  
WE DIDN'T COME HERE ALONE,  
EITHER

Dimmadreki stepped aside. Curled up on the ground just behind him, sound asleep, was a miniature Night Fury, barely three feet long from nose to tail. It woke and blinked when Fishlegs' lantern light fell across its face. Fishlegs gasped in delight and lunged toward it with a huge smile, only to have his way blocked by two full-sized Night Fury heads, both showing plenty of teeth.

"Did I do something wrong already?"

NO SUDDEN MOVES.  
DRAGON BABIES BITE WHEN  
THEY'RE STARTLED.  
SOMETIMES MOMS BITE TOO

"Uh, okay. Got it. May I take a closer look at your baby? Please?"

Dimmadreki nodded and gurgled something to his mate; Myrkrid reluctantly stepped aside. Fishlegs crouched down next to the little Night Fury, which gazed up at him curiously. "Hi there, little fella! What's your name?"

HER NAME IS NÆTURVON.  
IT MEANS HOPE IN THE NIGHT

"Oops. I guess I'm not so good at telling boy dragons from girl dragons. Hi, Næturvon! I can't believe how cute you are!" He reached out toward her; she snapped at his hand. He tried again, much slower this time, and scratched under her chin. She trilled, closed her eyes, and rested her head against his knee.

SHE LIKES YOU

Stoick's curiosity got the better of him. He stepped closer to the adult Night Furies and tried to peer around Fishlegs to see what was so fascinating. He'd seen hundreds of dragons in his lifetime, but he'd never seen a baby one. He had to admit, it was almost cute, for a dragon.

"Is this... your daughter?"

DAD, SHE'S YOUR  
GRANDDAUGHTER

A dragon was his granddaughter. Stoick shook his head again. "Son, is this really happening? I don't know if I can handle this. There is not _one_ piece of this situation that I can call 'normal'!"

THIS IS MY NEW NORMAL.  
MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE  
STAYED AWAY AND REMEM-  
BERED ME THE WAY I WAS

He nodded slowly. "Maybe I should have. But I had to know. I had to see you, and talk to you, and prove to myself that this is real. Part of me would never believe it unless I saw you and heard you for myself. So... what happens next?"

IT WILL BE A VERY LONG TIME  
BEFORE WE COME BACK AGAIN,  
IF EVER. WE NEED TO RAISE OUR  
DAUGHTER IN A SAFE PLACE, AND  
I NEED TO FOLLOW MY DESTINY

"You have a _destiny?_" Fishlegs was impressed. "How did you get one of those? Can I get one, too?"

I SEEM TO BE THE FULFILLMENT  
OF AN OLD DRAGON PROPHECY.  
I HAVE TO HUNT DOWN AND KILL  
ALL THE OTHER MONSTER  
DRAGONS. NO ONE ELSE  
CAN DO IT BUT ME

"Okay, maybe I don't want a destiny after all," Fishlegs decided nervously.

MAYBE IT'S YOUR DESTINY TO  
BE THE BEST BAKER IN BERK

"I guess I could live with that," the big young man decided. "Right now, I'm the _only_ baker in Berk, so it could happen."

"Wait a moment," Stoick cut in. "You've got a mate, you've got a child, you've won your first battles and you're headed out for more... this isn't the son I knew! You make it sound as though this... this _change_ has been a _good_ thing for you!"

I WOULDN'T HAVE CHOSEN IT,  
DAD, BUT IT HAS BEEN A VERY  
GOOD THING. I WAS A TERRIBLE  
VIKING, BUT I MIGHT BE A  
PRETTY GOOD DRAGON

WE CALLED FISHLEGS HERE,  
AND WE'LL ACCEPT YOU HERE,  
BECAUSE WE'RE SAYING  
GOODBYE

Stoick looked stunned. "But, son... I just got here! There are so many things I want to say to you!"

Dimmadreki sighed deeply.

DAD, THIS MIGHT SOUND HARSH,  
BUT YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE.  
I HAVE TO LIVE MY OWN LIFE  
NOW, AND IT'S VERY DIFFERENT  
FROM ANYTHING YOU CAN IMAGINE

I LEAVE YOU PEACE WITH THE  
DRAGONS, A VILLAGE WHERE I  
WON'T BREAK STUFF ANYMORE,  
AND MEMORIES. I HOPE YOU CAN  
THINK OF SOME GOOD ONES.  
GOODBYE, DAD  
GOODBYE, FISHLEGS

He made a few quick sounds at Myrkrid and Næturvon, and the three dragons bounded into the night sky. They were quickly lost in the darkness. Stoick couldn't even watch them fly away until they disappeared in the distance.

He stood motionless. Fishlegs, who had stayed out of that final emotional exchange, hesitantly stood next to him.

"There goes my only son," the chief said, slowly and softly, his voice filled with emotion that he almost never let show. "I dreamed of the day when he'd grow up to be just like me, and take my place some day. Now I have to accept the fact that my dream will never come true. All my plans for my tribe's future... gone."

"Won't the tribe be in good hands, once Snotlout gets some more training?" the big young man asked him.

"I can think of better hands," Stoick replied. He gazed at Fishlegs thoughtfully. "I can think of someone who knows what is right and sticks to his principles, even when the whole village is against him. I can think of someone who's brave enough to meet a dragon face to face, and even ride on his back – not many men can make _that_ claim! I can think of someone who's honest and clever, big enough to look like a chief, and probably the only man his age who might be able to give Snotlout a beatdown. If I live long enough to retire, I might very well throw my influence behind someone like that, if he wanted to become the chief after me." Fishlegs was speechless.

The chief went on, "I'd support a candidate like that because I think he might be the best man for the job. I would much rather have supported my own son to become chief of Berk, but it's taken me this long to realize, he never could have done it."

"Do you think he could have done it if he hadn't... I mean, if he was still human?" Fishlegs asked nervously.

"No," Stoick answered quietly. "For Hiccup, that would have been much too small a thing."

They slowly made their way back to the village in the darkness.

_The End_

**o**

_A/N  
As I mentioned at the start of this story, this was the result of a challenge from "Aegis Dragon." Here is the actual challenge:_

"I want to see you write a story in which a transformed Hiccup is paired with an OC female Night Fury. Not Toothless, not a female human turned into a Night Fury. A true female Night Fury that you create. I have yet to see a pairing like this and I'd love to see how ... you would pull it off."

_I realized that a dragon like this would have to be very different from the dragons in "Lightning and Death Itself." She would be, in essence, a wild dragon. She would not trust humans, or like them. Her motives would be very different from the motives of a human, and those motives would affect her personality. If Myrkrid seems rather mercurial in her moods, it's because her moods are dictated by her surroundings. If all her needs are being met, she's quite pleasant, although a bit short on sentimentality most of the time. If one of those needs is going unmet, she will totally focus on meeting that need, to the exclusion of all else._

_Hiccup is also treated differently in this story. His dragon nature has a lot more effect on him here than it does in "LaDI." This enables him to accept the changes that happened to him, and pair off with a female dragon, much faster than he might have done if he'd clung to his old nature the way he did in "LaDI." One way to look at it is that New-night-fury is Hiccup in a dragon's body, while Dimmadreki is a dragon with Hiccup's personality._

_This is the only story I've written (so far) that didn't come from one of my own ideas. Readers often send me story ideas, which I take as a compliment, but none of those ideas has ever caught my imagination until this one. I was surprised at how quickly the plotbunnies began breeding once I considered the idea, and I wrote it down pretty much the way it initially came to me._

_As I said in an earlier author's note, the name Dimmadreki is bad Icelandic for "shadow dragon." I'm not totally thrilled with this name, but I can't think of anything better. The name Myrkrid is Icelandic for "darkness," sounds cool, and is somewhat reminiscent of "Astrid," whom she displaced in Hiccup's heart. Tannlaus is the Icelandic equivalent of Toothless. Tannin is the Hebrew word used in Psalm 148:7 for "dragon" (in the King James Version; newer versions translate this word as "sea monster"). I also used her in a similar way in "Do You Mind?" Excellinor, the witch who is Alvin's mother, came straight out of the books by Cressida Cowell. Spitelout is still my favorite jerk from the actual cast, so I have no qualms about using him as one of the villains in this story. Fishlegs gets some extra attention here because he really is the only one of Hiccup's friends who wouldn't kill him on sight. Astrid plays a limited role because the plot diverges from the movie at a time when she felt no emotion for him at all._

_Thank you, Haganeochibi, for pointing out that my original dragon names, DarkShadow for Hiccup and BlackMoreNight for his partner, weren't so great and needed replacing. Thank you, Magnor, for the impromptu lessons in Icelandic and the suggestions for names. You helped make my story better._

_As usual, I threw in an assortment of references to other stories. This time, they included the Wizard of Oz, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (in two places), Sesame Street, The Lion King, Dune, Shrek, Geico commercials, Seinfeld, The Life of Brian, and a song by The Searchers._

_To all my readers: thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope it was worth your time. I have some rough ideas for a sequel, but not enough to start writing yet._


End file.
